


Help Me Rest (Help Me Rise)

by Lumeleo



Series: Super(ior) Tennis [2]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, First Time, FtM Atobe Keigo, Gender Dysphoria, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Sex, Suicide Attempt, Telepathic Bond, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-02-16 20:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18698662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumeleo/pseuds/Lumeleo
Summary: When Atobe's powers appear, they bring him nothing but pain.Fortunately, Sanada can help him live with his powers, and perhaps with himself.





	1. Awakening

Atobe was spacing out again.

A quick glance around confirmed that Shishido wasn’t the only one to have noticed this. Most of the regulars were visibly tense, throwing occasional glances towards their captain. Shishido caught Oshitari’s eye over the courts, tilting his head towards Atobe. Should they do something?

Oshitari paused for a moment, then lifted a finger, nodding at the group of second-years he was organizing for practice matches. Right. Busy. Which meant Shishido either had to wait for someone else to intervene or for Atobe to come out of it on his own, or he could step in himself.

Damn it.

“Oi, we’re done here,” he shouted over the net at his opponent. “I’ve got to take care of something.” He was pretty sure an ordinary first-year would have been in a world of trouble for speaking like that to an older member, but Shishido was a regular and one of Atobe’s own besides, so such rules didn’t really apply to him. It was all for the better, really. He didn’t have the patience to be dancing around some idiot he could have beaten with his eyes closed just because they happened to be a year or two older.

As it was, his opponent looked more relieved than anything, escaping over to where some other second-years were practicing rallies. Shishido grabbed his water bottle and took a swig before heading to where Atobe was still staring at nothing. At least he was sitting down this time. It was always more obvious when he was standing up.

They’d joked about it at first, when it had only been a missed word or two, or Atobe blinking for a second before shaking his head and coming back to himself. It was because Kabaji wasn’t there, Gakuto had suggested, and it was taking Atobe a while to catch up to the fact he couldn’t call for his friend as usual. However, they were barely a month into the school year and the missed moments only kept growing longer and more worrisome. At this point not even Shishido could bring himself to find any amusement in their glorious leader losing himself on a daily basis.

Atobe himself insisted he was fine and had no idea what they were talking about, of course, because this was Atobe and he couldn’t admit to any weakness even if his hair had been on fire. How he could claim nothing was going on was beyond Shishido, yet here they were.

He wished Choutarou had been around. He’d always been better at this people shit.

“Oi, Atobe.”

There was no response, not that Shishido had expected one. Atobe was still sitting on the bench, giving no sign of even noticing Shishido’s approach. His eyes were fixed on nothing, head slightly bowed down and to the side. Someone unfamiliar might have thought he was merely deep in thought, but Shishido knew that empty-gazed creature was not the actual Atobe. Wasn’t supposed to be, anyway.

“Atobe.” He reached out to shake Atobe’s shoulder, not even caring if that annoyed the guy. “Oi, come on. Wake up!”

It took a moment, but finally Atobe seemed to snap back into himself, or at least he moved at last. He didn’t quite turn to look at Shishido, his head still angled weird, but at least he was reacting. “Shishido?”

“You were doing it again.” Because even if Atobe tried to claim nothing was wrong, Shishido didn’t have to go along with it. “You know, just staring. You all right?”

“I’m fine.” Of course. When did he ever say anything else? “I just… can’t focus.”

“Oh?” Shishido frowned. It had to be pretty bad if Atobe actually admitted to it. “You mean on the practice? You could just go home, you know, get some fucking rest for once. We can handle things here.” Well, Oshitari could handle things and get the rest of them to fill in where needed, but that was basically the same thing.

“That’s not what I mean.” Atobe finally lifted his head, and Shishido nearly jerked back. Atobe’s eyes were… wandering, he supposed was the word, moving around independently of each other. The sight might have been comical if not for the utter wrongness of it, Atobe’s usually sharp gaze unable to even stop on Shishido for a moment. “I can’t… my eyes won’t…”

“Fuck.” Well, that definitely fell under ‘not fine’ no matter what Atobe claimed. Shishido desperately hoped Oshitari would show up soon, because he had no fucking idea how to deal with any of this. “Can you even see anything?”

“I see… too much.” Atobe sounded utterly exhausted, which was not something Shishido was used to. Atobe was never tired, and even when he was he wouldn’t show it. This was the guy who had stood up after fainting, for fuck’s sake. “And, not enough. Sometimes everything is just a blur, other times… it’s like I’m looking at five things at once.”

“Wait.” Shishido frowned. “Is that why you’ve been spacing out?” Hey, if Atobe was finally done claiming nothing was going on, he could just as well try to find out more.

“I… suppose.” Atobe sighed. His eyes apparently still wouldn’t obey him, occasionally moving in sync just for a moment before wandering apart again. “It can get… overwhelming. Hard to focus on anything else when my eyes are filling my brain with conflicting images.”

“And you keep claiming nothing’s wrong.” Shit. Shit shit shit. That was not normal, Shishido didn’t need to be any sort of an expert to know that was not normal. “Are you sure you’re not, you know… awakening?” Atobe didn’t have any family background for that as far as Shishido knew, but, well, he was about the right age, and that would explain at least some of the weirdness.

“God, I hope not.” Atobe actually sounded despairing. “I want to play tennis as myself.”

Right. Trust Atobe to dismiss the possibility of superhuman abilities because he was too proud of what he had achieved. It was… something Shishido could respect, really. “Well, you’ve got to get it checked out. If you’ve got a power coming in, trying to resist it is just going to make things worse. You could fuck yourself up permanently doing that.” He’d heard the warnings, just as he was sure Atobe had. If you were one of the rare people awakening to active powers, it was best to just accept and adapt to it. Trying to fight it could mess up your brain for good. “Come on, get up. I’ll get you to the infirmary.”

“I can’t.” And of course he’d be stubborn even now.

“Atobe, this really isn’t the time to be a fucking idiot about this. This’ll be less embarrassing for both of us if I don’t have to ask Oshitari to help me carry you there.”

“No, I meant… I can’t.” Atobe sounded frustrated and embarrassed at once. “I don’t think I can stand up right now. I’m feeling dizzy just sitting here.”

Well. That was both better and worse than simply being stubborn. “So take a moment. This always fixes itself after a while, right? I’ll wait until you can walk.”

“Atobe?” Oh, thank fuck, Oshitari was here. “Shishido, what’s goin’ on?”

“Something’s off with his eyes.” Shishido sighed. ”And if he thinks we’re going to ignore it this time, he’s even more of an idiot than I thought.”

“Right.” Oshitari frowned, crouching in front of Atobe. “Oi, Atobe. Can you see me?”

“…You are a blur.” Atobe blinked, eyes moving lazily about without actually focusing on anything. “Jirou’s shirt button is undone. Shishido is frowning but I can’t see his cap, Gakuto’s hairclip is about to fall out, the third net from left is sagging and there’s a ball on the roof of the club building and —”

Atobe was rambling, now, his voice getting faster and more frantic with every word. Shishido exchanged worried gazes with Oshitari. Clearly waiting for this to get over would not be the best idea. “Oi, Atobe, stop that. You’ve got to stop, you’re going to overload yourself.”

“I can’t.” Atobe sounded scared. Shishido had never heard him sound like that. “I can’t stop, there’s too much, there’s always too much, sweet lord I wish I could stop —”

Atobe put his hands over his eyes, and for a brief moment Shishido almost thought that would make things better. The next moment, though, Atobe screamed in terror and pain, loud enough for everyone in the club to turn to look at them. Atobe didn’t have to deal with the mortification of that for long, though, as he toppled over the next moment. Oshitari caught him just before he could fall off the bench.

“He’s unconscious.” Yeah, because Shishido totally needed to be told that with the way Atobe’s head lolled to the side, his eyes closed. “Come on, let’s get him to the infirmary. Gakkun, Jirou, and Taki can wrap up practice. Doubt anyone’s goin’ to be concentratin’ after that.”

“Atobe’s going to hate this,” Shishido murmured even as he heard Oshitari shouting over to Gakuto. “He’s going to kill us both, I hope you know.”

“Tough. He should’ve thought of that before pushin’ himself to breaking point.”

Shishido wanted to say something in response, wanted to point out that pushing himself that far was kind of Atobe’s thing. However, he found it hard to say anything witty while looking at Atobe’s pale, strained face.

Atobe had better get this fixed up, or Shishido was personally going to kick his ass.

*

Everything was chaos.

Atobe couldn’t even think, couldn’t find any semblance of sense in all the images that were bombarding him from every direction. Everything was too bright and too colorful and too much, every little detail struggling to gain his attention ahead of all the others. He was only barely aware of people moving around him, heard words he couldn’t decipher for all the noise in his brain.

He wanted to close his eyes, yet he feared that would make everything even worse. It certainly had the first time he tried it. Having his eyes dart around picking up everything was one thing. However, when he had closed his eyes, rather than managing to close out all the distracting details he had found his mind filled with sights from all around him, even places he could not have physically seen. The initial flood had been painful enough that he had passed out, and even now, it was no less distressing.

This wouldn’t do. He needed to regain focus, needed to gather himself and get back to normal. He couldn’t allow this to ruin everything, couldn’t let his life fall apart at something he had no control over. And yet he couldn’t really do anything, couldn’t stop the power he felt coursing through his body any more than he could have hoped to stop his heart from beating. It felt alien, something utterly foreign to his being, yet there was no getting rid of it, not now. Except he couldn’t possibly live with this, either, couldn’t have his life back when he couldn’t even think for all the overwhelming bursts of information.

Had his body not betrayed him enough?

*

Sanada could only be thankful for the butler — well, he assumed the man was a butler, and hadn’t been told otherwise — leading him through the apparently endless corridors. He’d known Atobe was rich even by Hyoutei standards, of course, but he hadn’t expected the Atobe residence to be so close to what he might have called a palace. How the actual inhabitants could find find their way, he had no idea.

The turned into yet another corridor, except this one one was almost entirely dark, with no lights on and the windows lining one wall closed off with heavy curtains. The butler paused to pick up what seemed like an electric lantern from a small table next to the door they had come through, turning it on.

“I do apologize for the darkness,” the man murmured, though Sanada hadn’t said anything. “Given Keigo-sama’s condition, it’s best to minimize the amount of light reaching his rooms.”

“Right.” Sanada nodded slowly. “Ah. How is he, then?”

“Still recovering, I’m afraid. I can’t actually guarantee that he will be up to receiving visitors.”

“That’s quite understandable.” From the rumors — and there were a lot of them flying around, thanks to Atobe being, well, Atobe — he’d heard that it had been rather strong even for an awakening. Of course it had. It wasn’t like Atobe could settle for anything but the most dramatic of, well, anything.

“Ah, here we are.” The man stopped in front of a door that Sanada could not tell apart from any of the others lining the corridor, certainly not in the darkness. Lifting his hand to knock, he called out, “Keigo-sama? A visitor.”

There was a moment of silence, after which Atobe’s voice called back. “Who is it?”

“He introduced himself as Sanada-san, from Rikkaidai.”

Sanada could have sworn the silence dragged on even longer this time. Finally, he heard the response he hadn’t really dared to expect. “Let him in.”

“Very well, Keigo-sama.” The butler turned off the lantern, plunging them into near total darkness. Sanada could barely make out the silhouette of the door being opened into even deeper darkness. “Go ahead, Sanada-san.”

“Thank you.” Sanada nodded briefly, stepping into the dark room. The door was closed behind him, shutting out any semblance of light. “Atobe?”

“Sanada.” Well. At least Atobe was indeed somewhere in the room. “Can’t say I expected you to show up, of all people.”

“Hn. The news reached even us in Rikkai.” Sanada didn’t comment any further on his decision to come. “How are you doing?”

“How do you think?” Atobe sounded exhausted, more so than he had after even the longest matches. Even when he had literally fainted on his feet he hadn’t sounded quite this weary. “I’m exhausted, I have a horrible headache that gets worse with anything short of total darkness, and I might just as well forget ever playing tennis again.”

“That’s nonsense.” Sanada shook his head, though Atobe couldn’t see it. Well. He probably couldn’t see it. “You wouldn’t be the only powered player in the circuit by far. With the right precautions —”

“I will not be collared like some damn animal.” Atobe’s voice was more of a growl than actual words, which might have been a contrast with his words if Sanada hadn’t internally agreed with the sentiment. “It’s not like my power is going to give me any advantage I didn’t already have with my Insight. Hell, until I get this properly under control, it’s a handicap more than anything. And yet, it means I won’t be able to take part in any official matches without power dampeners.”

“There is another option, you know.” He didn’t want to push, didn’t feel it was his place, but he did want to make sure Atobe had considered all the available options. It would be a great loss to tennis if Atobe stopped playing.

“Right. Because letting some total stranger poke around in my brain sounds so much more pleasant.”

“That’s not how it works and you know it.” Atobe was too smart not to know.

“Close enough. I wouldn’t trust some random official with even what little access they’d need to make sure I’m not using my powers.” Atobe sighed, and Sanada could just barely sense something moving in the darkness. “So, you know, if you’re here to mock me, just get it out of the way and let me mope in peace.”

“I would not mock you for such a reason.” There were plenty of other reasons to make fun of Atobe, but he wasn’t going to bring that up right now. “Besides… it doesn’t have to be an official. Anyone with the right certification could do it.”

“Right. Which would still require someone I trust enough to let them root around in my mind, with the abilities and certification to keep me in check. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but just because I’m usually surrounded by people doesn’t mean I trust all of them.”

The thought that struck him then was crazy, really. He was probably losing his mind in the darkness, was wondering just how Atobe could stand this even if the alternative was being overwhelmed. Even so, he couldn’t help but speak up. “Well. I haven’t been certified, but that shouldn’t be too difficult to arrange.”

“What?” Atobe’s voice was suddenly sharp. “You mean… you are…”

“I awoke on the negative side of the scale, yes.” Sanada folded his arms over his chest, uncomfortably feeling like Atobe was staring at him even in the darkness. “It runs in my family. I don’t exactly have a lot of experience, but I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t figure out.”

“You would do that?” Atobe sounded disbelieving. “I’m your rival!”

“Yes. That’s exactly why things would get much less interesting if you weren’t around.” Sanada felt like he should be tugging his cap down to escape Atobe’s unseen gaze. “Of course, that would require you to trust me that much. I don’t expect you to agree, certainly not right away, but —”

“Yes.” Atobe cut him off, his voice firm yet somehow almost… fragile? “Yes, I agree.”

“Are you sure?” Sanada blinked, not quite able to keep the surprise from his voice. “Just now you were saying you didn’t want anyone in your brain.”

“Not anyone I can’t trust with such access.” Atobe paused. “I mean… if you’re offering to do this, then I can trust that you wouldn’t try to do anything more than keep me in check.”

“I would never.” He couldn’t, not if he wished to still call himself honorable at all. “It would mean we cannot play against each other in official matches, but that’s still preferable to having you leave the circuit entirely.”

“Like I would even need any powers to take you down.” Atobe sounded almost teasing, now, and that was so much better than the earlier depressed tone.

“Hn. We’ll have to see about that one of these days.” Sanada paused, considering for a moment before he dared to pose his question. “May I?”

Atobe took a while to answer, too, long enough that Sanada almost told him to forget it. Finally, though, he heard a quiet voice. “Ahn. Suppose it’s better to get used to it sooner rather than later.”

“Right.” Sanada unfolded his arms, moving slowly through the darkness. He only had a vague idea of where Atobe was in the room, but managed to make his way there without tripping over anything or otherwise making a fool of himself. Finally he found his foot hitting against something that he concluded to be an armchair. He reached out a careful hand, only for it to be immediately caught in Atobe’s. Well. So much for wondering if he had been seen.

He could feel the current of power running under Atobe’s skin the moment they made contact. He had been telling the truth about his lack of experience, but he knew the basics at least, had known to expect something like this. Even so, he was surprised at how strong it appeared, how the waves of it tugged at his senses even as Atobe guided his hand through the darkness.

Sanada’s fingertips touched Atobe’s temple, only the briefest brush at first, and he very nearly jolted away.

It wasn’t anything like he might have expected. There was no direct link, no actual view of Atobe’s thoughts. Instead he was hit by feelings and impressions, a phantom headache and fading images moving within shadows. He could see himself through Atobe’s eyes, the colors and details washed out in the darkness but the general shape clear enough. There was the current of power, too, even stronger now, and Sanada couldn’t help but imagine a wave crashing against him. He forced himself to stand firm against it, though, endured the current. If it was this striking for him, he couldn’t imagine how Atobe was living with it all the time.

As though in response to his own internal question, there was a new rush of images, everything too bright and too detailed and too much. Sanada took it all in, then focused on the flood, imagining the crashing waves shrinking away. He didn’t want to cut it off entirely, that wouldn’t be good either, but at least he could limit the strain on Atobe’s senses for now.

He felt more than heard Atobe’s relieved sigh as Sanada channeled most of the current into himself, where it fizzled out into nothing upon meeting his own core. The overwhelming images faded away, leaving nothing but the sort of darkness Sanada himself could see right now.

Sanada slowly drew his hand away, focusing on keeping the connection intact. He stepped back then, not comfortable with invading Atobe’s personal space for too long. “Ah. I will cut it off anytime you want, but, well. You sounded like you need a break.”

“…Thank you.” Atobe sounded even more exhausted now, if that was even possible. “Maybe now I can get some actual sleep once the headache fades.”

“I’ll, ah. I’ll leave you to it, then.” Assuming he could make his way to the door without tripping over his own feet. That would make an excellent impression on Atobe, he was sure.

“I owe you.” He might have expected Atobe to sound reluctant to admit this, but the words seemed to come almost too easy. “Even if you change your mind about helping me long term, just for this little break… mere thanks is not enough.”

“Hn.” Now he was definitely glad Atobe couldn’t see the heat creeping up to his cheeks, anymore. “You can pay me back by getting back on the courts as soon as possible. Dally too long, and the season starts without you.”

“Don’t worry. That’s first on my list once I can face the light of day.”

“You’re saying your usual shining self isn’t enough?”

For all that it was still tired and weak, the laugh that bubbled up from Atobe’s lips made Sanada feel impossibly lighter, especially as he felt the ripples of it echoing through the link between them.

Sanada hadn’t even made it out of the enormous mansion before he felt the background noise of Atobe’s mind fading into slumber. Well, clearly it was needed.

He wondered if Renji would know exactly what kind of certification he needed to acquire to get Atobe into the tournaments again.


	2. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oblivious Sanada is oblivious.

“Certification?” Renji looked up from the training program he had been looking over. Morning practice had not started just yet, but that was why this was the best time for them to go over their strategy. “You mean, for powered players in tournaments?”

“Right.” Sanada frowned. Had he not been clear enough? “I’m assuming you would either know, or know where to find out.”

“Oh, yes. I cannot say I am familiar with the exact details of the process, but that shouldn’t be too difficult to find out.” Renji’s lips curled a little. “Is there a specific reason you are asking?”

“Is it not obvious? I am planning to act as a limiter for a player.” Sanada shrugged, trying to appear more casual about the matter than he truly felt. “It’s not like I have any other use for my abilities, after all.”

“Indeed not.” Seiichi smiled. “So how was Atobe when you went to check on him?”

Sanada felt his cheeks heating up. “I — who said anything about Atobe?”

“It is the most logical option, don’t you think?” Renji was smiling now, too. Why were they both amused at him all of a sudden? “The rumors do point towards a sudden awakening of power, and I certainly cannot think of anyone else in need of a limiter who you might have a personal interest in helping.”

“Also, you said you had an errand to run yesterday, and didn’t ask Renji for any more news about Atobe this morning. It’s not a difficult conclusion to draw.” Seiichi chuckled a little. “You haven’t answered my question yet, either.”

“Ah.” Sanada tugged his cap down a little. “He was… bad. I didn’t get the details, but it seems like his eyesight was getting out of hand. When I went to see him, he had the room entirely dark just to avoid his headache getting worse.”

“I suppose that is a fitting power for him, with his Insight and all.” Renji nodded. “I’m assuming you helped him with that?”

“I did what I could.” Sanada folded his arms across his chest, feeling a bit defensive. “Atobe is a… worthy opponent. It would not be worth much to defeat Hyoutei without him on the courts.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to us, Genichirou.” If anything, Seiichi looked even more amused than before. “It’s your choice who you want to aid with your abilities or not. If anything, we’re just happy that you’ve actually done something about Atobe at last.”

Sanada frowned. “And what do you mean by that?”

“Is it not obvious?” Renji tilted his head to the side a little. “We’ve been watching you and Atobe dancing around each other for quite a while without getting anywhere. Any sign of progress is good news to us.”

“That makes no sense.” Sanada huffed. “Just get me the information, or I’ll find out by myself. There isn’t that much time before we get to actually important matches.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be sure to get everything sorted out.” Renji nodded at him. “You just focus on playing with Atobe in your head.”

Sanada wanted to point out that wasn’t how it worked at all, wanted to explain that if anything he was the one in Atobe’s head, and in any case the connection was little more than the occasional brush right now. He could tell that Atobe’s exhaustion and headache both had eased since the night before, but that was all. However, from the expressions on his friends’ faces he suspected any sort of explanation would have only led to even more teasing, not that he entirely understood just what they were aiming at. As such, he simply nodded.

“Do not worry. This will not affect my performance.” That much, at least, he needed to make clear.

“If it was going to, it would have already done so a while ago.” Which obviously made no sense, he’d only first made the connection with Atobe the day before, but there was no arguing with Seiichi when he had that smile on his face. “Though I suppose this means that if we go directly against Hyoutei, I will have to take on Atobe myself. That should be interesting indeed.”

“If anyone can beat Atobe, it’s you.” And Sanada himself, of course, he had by no means given up on their rivalry, but he knew he still didn’t come even close to Yukimura’s level.

“I would certainly hope so.” Seiichi’s lips curled up a little bit further. “Can’t have him stealing you away entirely, now can I?”

That obviously made no sense whatsoever, so Sanada didn’t even bother to respond. Goodness knew Seiichi needed no encouragement when he was like this.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he sensed a hint of light and fresh air. Good. Atobe was not supposed to stay hidden away in his chambers.

If Sanada could in any way help in that, it was worth some small distraction.

*

“So, you think Atobe’s coming today?”

“I haven’t heard anything one way or another.” Oshitari ignored Gakuto basically bouncing up and down next to him, filled with far too much energy. “Which is troublesome, considering I’d appreciate actually knowing if I’ll have to take charge of practice again, but then when has Atobe ever believed in making things easy for others?”

“According to Choutarou, Kabaji said yesterday that Atobe was doing better. No idea if that’s well enough to actually come to school, or just better than totally collapsing, though.” Shishido adjusted his cap, rolling his eyes. “Not that Atobe seems to know the difference.”

“Heh. I’d at least expect him to take his time rather than risking another such embarrassing show.” Gakuto tilted his head, locks of red hair swishing to and fro as he did. “You seriously don’t know what happened, still?”

“As I said, I haven’t heard anything from Atobe since the incident, save that I should keep things from falling apart until he gets back.” Oshitari smirked. “Which isn’t easy, of course, given how you all act.”

“Now that’s just unfair!” Jirou whined, only to immediately perk up, giving Oshitari a look far too reminiscent of an overly eager puppy. “Hey, hey! You think Atobe got powers or something? I heard someone say that must be what happened.”

“Could just be he’s pushed himself too far once again.” Shishido snorted. “I mean, he’s been spacing out lately, you know? Maybe he’s actually developed a migraine rather than just complaining that we’ll give him one.”

“Hm.” Well, there was no mistaking that self-satisfied voice. “It’s good to see you haven’t entirely lost your spirit in my absence.”

“Atobe!” Jirou’s exclamation chimed out just as they all turned to look at the doorway. Indeed, there stood Atobe, smirking as usual. The hooded jacket and sunglasses were not quite as ordinary, though. Wasn’t that curious.

“Great, I wasn’t looking forward to running another practice.” Oshitari stretched his arms above his head. “I’m taking you’re all better, then?”

“You could say that.” Atobe took off his sunglasses, only for his eyes to remain closed for another moment. “Still not quite up to a hundred percent yet, I’m afraid, but I can certainly handle taking charge again.”

“Now, that’s strange,” Shishido snorted. “I didn’t know you were even capable of admitting you’re anything but brilliant.”

“It would be rather hard to deny at this point.” Atobe strode over to his locker, starting to change. “I am reasonably certain there will be no repeat of the previous incident, though.”

“Are you sure?” Jirou frowned, looking as worried as he was capable of. “That was really scary, you know! I thought something terrible had happened to you!”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t pleasant for me, either. Still, there’s no reason for you to look like that.” Which was a reasonable comment, except for the fact that Atobe’s gaze was still in his locker, rather than on Jirou’s frowning face. “I will be just fine.”

“Perhaps more than fine, in time?” Oshitari smirked, adjusting his glasses. “Last time I checked you didn’t actually have eyes at the back of your head.”

“Oh, please. That’s such a childish way to put it.” Atobe snorted. “I merely happen to know you lot rather well by now.”

“Really, now.” Unable to help his smirk, Oshitari leaned closer, lifting his hand with three outstretched fingers right behind Atobe’s back. “How many fingers?”

“Is that really what youre going for?” And yet, Atobe sounded more amused than annoyed. “But, for the record, the answer would be three.”

There was a moment’s silence. Jirou was the first to break it by gasping loudly. “Atobe! It’s true, then? You have powers now?”

“I suppose you could say that.” Atobe smirked as he turned back towards them, sunglasses in hand. “I’m still adjusting to it, but I do believe I’ll have proper control soon enough. In the meantime, I am certainly capable of keeping an eye on you all even without using my new abilities to their full extent.”

“Will that be okay, though? You can’t play in tournaments with active powers.” Oshitari frowned. Sure, there was no such rule about team practice, but somehow he found it hard to believe that Atobe would be fine with simply taking himself off the active competition roster.

“Things will be cleared up by then.” Now, the smirk faded for a moment, only to return as Atobe put on the sunglasses again, grabbing his racket. “I suppose I should see whether you have all slacked off when I wasn’t watching you, ahn?”

“You were out for, like, three days. That’s not enough time for anyone to get out of shape.”

“What was that, Shishido? You’ll be my first practice opponent? How very kind of you.” Well. That didn’t exactly make Shishido frown any less, but it was amusing enough for Oshitari. It seemed like their dear captain was back in action, indeed.

He was still going to keep an eye on Atobe for the time being, though. Just in case.

*

It was amazing, really, how much easier it was to improve his control when he wasn’t utterly overwhelmed all the time.

Before Sanada’s visit he had hardly been able to even think, his brain too overloaded with all the extra sensory information he was not yet used to. Even the nigh-total darkness hadn’t entirely shut things out, merely eased the problem. Now, though, he could allow through only as much power as he could handle, could channel more and more as he mastered the previous levels.

For all that he had been desperate for respite, Atobe had to admit he had been somewhat wary about giving Sanada literal access to his head. However, for the most part he hardly even noticed the link. It was only when he focused on his power that it was obvious, the feeling of some of his power draining out of him too clear to ignore. Other than that the only difference he truly noticed was not getting swallowed up in himself.

Well. At first, it was the only difference.

He didn’t even notice it at first, chalked the small jabs of emotion up to his own less than settled mind. It wasn’t like it was affecting him or anything, he was a master at masking his own emotions when he wanted to, after all. It wasn’t until he suddenly felt a distant but undeniable pain on the back of his head while enjoying a cup of tea in his library, immediately followed by a very clear flare of anger, that he realized that wasn’t all of it. After a moment’s debate, he picked up his phone and sent a text to Sanada.

‘Hurt?’

There was no answer for a while. He’d already gotten absorbed in his book when his phone finally buzzed in response. ‘You felt it.’

No question, of course. Why would there be? Sanada didn’t believe in wasting words. ‘I did. I do hope you haven’t actually injured yourself.’

‘I’ll be fine. More concerned with chasing my brat of a nephew.’ Well, that probably at least partially explained the cause.

Atobe thought that would be the end of it. However, a couple of chapters later he found his phone buzzing again.

‘…The link gets stronger the more we are connected. Also, strong emotions cross easier. Just so you know.’

Atobe snorted, quickly typing out a reply. ‘Darn. Does that mean my triumph for Hyoutei’s inevitable victory will be marred by your crushing defeat?’

‘I would tell you to try and beat me, but clearly that won’t happen.’

He snorted again, then returned to his book. He’d missed his library, really, considering it had taken him almost two weeks since Sanada’s offer to regain enough fine control to read for extended periods of time without letting his focus get divided. It was a good thing he was a model student, or school would have been very nearly impossible until now.

At this point, though, he could read without worrying about headaches or distractions. It was, in his not so humble opinion, entirely worth the prospect of occasionally being alerted to how Sanada was doing. As for Sanada finding out anything about his feelings… well. Clearly he would have to work on his control in other aspects as well.

Right now, though, he was going to read his book.


	3. Adjustments

For all that Sanada was confident in his abilities, he had to admit to feeling somewhat nervous as the day of his official certification test came up.

He liked to think he had it under control, only to be proved wrong by a message from Atobe. _‘Relax. You’re making me nauseous.’_

Sanada snorted to himself. For some reason, the message did make him less tense, but he wasn’t about to admit that. _‘I need to cut off the link soon. Will you be all right?’_

_‘I’ll be fine. You focus on the testing.’_

Well, that was clear enough, and his appointment was coming up. With a deep breath, he let go of his connection to Atobe. It felt strange, after having it in the back of his mind for so long. A moment later, his phone buzzed again.

_‘Still in one piece. I’m not even clawing my eyes out.’_

Sanada shook his head, unable to help the small smirk making its way onto his lips. Trust Atobe to make light of such a thing.

He was called in soon, and had to put Atobe out of his mind. The test was simple enough. After answering a few questions, he was asked to connect with one of the test administrators and then cut off their power entirely. It took him a moment, but he did manage it. The feeling of the administrator’s power was different from Atobe, so he couldn’t just use his already established instincts to reroute it without a thought. However, once he managed to track down all the tendrils of power, it was simple enough redirect it all to burn at his core.

As he walked out of the facility with his brand new certificate, he was rather surprised to find a familiar face waiting for him outside. “Atobe?” He lifted his eyebrows. “For someone so eager to convince me that you’re fine without help, you sure are in a hurry to get the link re-established.”

Atobe rolled his eyes. “And I am fine, thank you. I actually do have some control now. However, I do prefer the knowledge I won’t have to deal with a headache if I get distracted for a bit.”

“Hn.” Sanada shook his head. “Powers altering perception or cognition do tend to be more troublesome.”

“I could have told you as much.” Atobe snorted. “Also, I figured the least I could do is offer you a ride home.” Atobe waved towards a car parked nearby.

“I would say that won’t be necessary, but I suppose it would be impolite to refuse when you’ve already dragged your driver all this way.” Sanada paused. “I see you still haven’t asked how I did on my test.”

“That is because I have full confidence in you.” Atobe sounded surprisingly sincere before smirking. “After all, if you could hold back my magnificent powers, nothing else could be a challenge, ahn?”

Sanada supposed there were worse reasons why someone might have felt confident in his abilities.

*

For all that he trusted Sanada to keep his word, Atobe had to admit to some uncertainty as they arrived at the Kantou tournament. It would have been terribly easy for Sanada to sabotage the tournament for him by pulling out on the day of. He didn’t believe Sanada would do that, he was too damn honorable for that, but it did mean that Sanada getting injured or sick would essentially shut Atobe out of the tournament as well.

As such, he was quite happy to see Sanada and Yukimura speaking to each other near the sign-up booth when he came to give his final line-up to the officials. Smirking a bit, he stepped closer to them.

“Yukimura.” This caught both of their attention, and they turned to look at him. “I plan to be playing Singles One on every round of this tournament. Will that be a problem?”

“Oh, not at all.” Yukimura smiled softly. “If you do manage to hang around long enough to face us, I will be delighted to crush you personally.”

“We’ll see about that.” With a chuckle, Atobe turned to the sign-up stand. “Atobe Keigo, I’m here to submit the line-up for Hyoutei High. Oh, and I will need a limiter sign-up sheet.” Might as well get Sanada’s signature on that right away, after all.

“Ah, actually, I believe we already have that on file.” The official looked around on her desk, then drew out a form that had indeed been filled out, only missing Atobe’s signature. “If you’ll just make sure all the information is correct and sign here, I’ll get everything sorted out.”

Atobe glanced at Sanada with a raised eyebrow, only to receive a shrug from Sanada and a smile from Yukimura. Well, if they wanted to make his life easier, he wasn’t going to complain. After a cursory look through the form and signing his name once he was sure everything was in order, he returned the form to the official and approached the Rikkai pair again.

“Right. What was that about?”

“We got here first, so Genichirou thought he might as well save you the time." Yukimura tilted his head. “Also, I think he wanted to make sure that you didn’t need to worry about him keeping up his side of the bargain.”

Atobe glanced at Sanada, who ducked his head, no doubt to hide his slightly embarrassed expression. Of course, that didn’t do much against Atobe, who could see his face without even really trying. Faces were something his instincts seemed to hone in on without him even consciously using his powers.

“Well, he needn’t have worried.” Sure, he’d had his concerns, but never about Sanada keeping his word. “His reliability is the least concerning part of this whole ordeal. However, the gesture is… appreciated.”

“Well, would you look at that.” Yukimura chuckled. “For such a tough man, Genichirou can be quite adorable when he gets flustered, don’t you think?”

Atobe smirked. “I see no reason to disagree with your assessment.”

After all, he did not see the point in denying the obvious.

*

Once all the paperwork was over with, the actual procedure of being Atobe’s limiter during the tournament turned out to be rather simple.

It didn’t really take any more effort than usual, as he’d been holding onto the connection more or less constantly for a while now. He was simply expected to show up when Atobe had a match, make sure the referee knew he was certified, and direct all of Atobe’s powers into himself for the duration of the match. Since he was also a player, he wasn’t even required to stay next to the courts as long as he stayed within the tournament area, though he did watch whenever he wasn’t busy with his own matches. Atobe was an excellent player, after all.

Standing next to the court as he was, it was no wonder one of the Hyoutei players decided to talk to him.

“So.” Oshitari apparently decided any sort of formalities were not needed, simply appearing at Sanada’s side. “You’ve got an arrangement, huh?”

Sanada grunted, not sure what else to say. After all, it was patently obvious what he was doing.

“Atobe never told us, y’know. He just said he had something in mind that would let him play, and, well, not our business to question the captain. Still, can’t say I expected you of all people to step up.”

Sanada gave Oshitari a sideways glance. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, y’know. You’ve been rivals for a while, haven’t you? Makes one wonder why you’re doing all this.” Oshitari was smirking, but his eyes weren’t too kind.

“Rivals, not enemies.” It was an important distinction. “I offered him my help because the tennis circuit would be much less interesting without Atobe in it. That’s the only motivation I have.”

“Let’s hope that’s it.” There was a pause, both of them watching the match. “Now, I’m not one for violent threats or the like. It’s not my style, and besides, Atobe can look after himself. However.” Oshitari’s tone turned sharp. “I wanted to make sure you know that we’re kind of fond of our captain. May not always seem like it, sure, but we rather prefer him happy.”

“I have no intention of hurting Atobe.” Why were they even having this conversation? It wasn’t like he was dating Atobe or something, just offering a helping hand. “I have also already given him my word that I will not spread or abuse any information I might gain through our connection.”

“Good. Then we won’t have any problem, right?” Oshitari smirked, then stepped away. Apparently they were done for now.

Atobe was clearly toying with his opponent, and the match dragged on to the point Sanada couldn’t stay watching the whole time. He knew exactly when it was over, though, as Atobe’s triumph echoed through the link. Sanada waited until he felt Atobe reaching out, at which point he let go of the power. Atobe immediately took it back under his control, his satisfaction reflected through to Sanada.

He figured that would be the end of it until the next time Atobe had a match. To his surprise, though, Atobe walked up to him some time later as he was watching Jackal and Marui’s match. Atobe was still practically radiating satisfaction after his successful match, eyes sparkling.

“I see you did well.” As though it wasn’t obvious.

“Of course I did.” Atobe snorted. “When do I ever not?”

“I don’t think you want me to answer that.” Sanada smirked at Atobe’s half-hearted glare. “…The change wasn’t too disorienting, I hope?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Which wasn’t the same as not at all, but he figured it was the best Atobe was going to give him. “I’m assuming your team is doing well.”

“As always.” Sanada smirked. “We’re going to take you down sooner or later.”

“We’ll see about that.” Atobe turned to leave, then halted. “Ah. Your redhead?”

“You mean Marui?” Sanada blinked.

Atobe waved his hand. “Whatever his name is. You might want to keep an eye on him, his right ankle seems to be giving him trouble.”

“You sure?” Sanada looked back to the court. “I’m not seeing anything.”

Atobe shook his head. “Of course you don’t. But do remember who I am, ahn?” He chuckled, an awfully familiar sound. “Finding weak points was my specialty even before I could see literally everything.”

“Hn.” That was true, Sanada supposed. “…I’ll keep that in mind.” Then, after a moment’s thought, he added, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He could practically hear the smirk in Atobe’s voice. “After all, I wouldn’t want you to get knocked out before we get to face you, ahn?”

For all that Sanada did pay more attention than usual, Atobe’s advice did not change much in the end. Marui seemed to be just fine, and told Sanada as much, up until the moment his ankle gave out from under him in the middle of a match. That alone shouldn’t have been too bad, except as luck would have it, this happened during the semifinals against Seigaku. With an already tricky opponent, the one injury threw enough of a wrench in the works that they ended up losing, however barely.

“Well, that was a disaster.” There was an edge to Yukimura’s smile that chilled Sanada to the core. “I hope you all know what we must do.”

“Get third place and crush them at the Nationals?” Marui looked even more disgruntled than the rest of them, but also more determined.

“You’re going to do nothing but let your ankle get better.” Sanada gave him a glare. “For the rest of us, though, that’s exactly it.” His frown deepened. “We are going to Nationals, and we are going to win.”

In the meantime, though, he wouldn’t mind seeing Hyoutei take Seigaku down a peg or twelve.

*

Atobe was not in a good mood.

Sanada already had an inkling as soon as he felt Atobe waking up at the back of his mind, but attributed it to morning crankiness. However, rather than fade during the day, he only felt Atobe’s negative feelings growing stronger. That was strange to say the least. Not to say that Atobe didn’t have his bad moments, but usually they passed soon enough. Sanada certainly hadn’t felt anything this strong from him for more than brief moments, yet now he found anger and anguish growing throughout the day. There were moments of lull, but those were brief and immediately supplanted by more negativity.

Sanada tried not to pay attention, but it was getting rather impossible to ignore the emotions leaking through. These were obviously strong feelings, and no matter how much he worked to close them out some still found their way through his mental walls. He doubted this was intentional on Atobe’s part, and yet, he could not avoid it.

Tennis practice helped Sanada focus on other things, pushing Atobe’s constant presence to the back of his mind as he instead let himself sink into the familiar rhythm of tennis. It did cross his mind to try to project some of those sensations to Atobe, in hopes of combating the negativity, but came to the conclusion that would have been too intrusive. Was Atobe even aware he was leaking his emotions?

It was on the way back home that Sanada came to a halt, an overwhelming wave of grief and anger crashing through his defenses and allowing the flood through. He was nearly knocked over by the weight of Atobe’s thoughts, only keeping himself on his feet through sheer force of will. This wasn’t just sensations and feelings anymore, there were memories too, voices and images that he had never experienced but which now felt like his very own. Words and voices that hurt even though he didn’t know why, people and places he didn’t recognize, all of it filtered through a lens of pain and anger. One woman in particular featured in several forms, her features familiar yet somehow unclear. She was speaking, her voice distant but impossible to ignore due to the sheer weight of the emotions it carried. Not that Sanada could make out most of it, just one word, a name. Sayuri.

‘Atobe?’ Never mind not intruding. By now, he was concerned. Clearly something was very wrong if his ever calm rival was in such a state.

He could feel Atobe’s shock, expected an icy withdrawal and perhaps some sharp comment. Instead, he received the mental equivalent of a furious roar, anger masking the pain and sorrow. ‘GET OUT OF MY HEAD!’

At first Sanada thought Atobe had cut the connection entirely, the silence of being alone in his own head overwhelming after the earlier noise. As he managed to gather himself he realized there was some sliver of a bond still there, a faint thread still connecting them to each other even over the distance. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to reach out, if only to make sure Atobe was all right.

He could not feel anything.

Sanada might have claimed his hands were not shaking as he reached for his phone, but he was not in the habit of lying to himself.


	4. Shattering

“Yuushi, you’re kind of scaring me.” Gakuto did not sound particularly scared, but his frown was worried enough. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure, but I plan to find out.” They weren’t running, not quite, but they were certainly walking quite fast along the sidewalk. It had occurred to Yuushi that they could have simply taken a cab or gotten someone to drive them, but they hadn’t been that far away when Sanada called him. Besides, it was better to stay on the move than try to think u pa strategy and waste time doing so.

“Was that Atobe on the phone?” Gakuto frowned, looking around at the buildings surrounding them. Most of them were grand and expensive, yet none of them came quite close to matching the magnificence of the Atobe estate at the end of the road. “What did he want?”

“No, it wasn’t Atobe. He’s not answering his phone.” Which was pretty terrifying all in itself. In all the time he had known Atobe, Yuushi had never been unable to contact him if needed. Sure, sometimes it took a couple of tries if Atobe didn’t have all his various phones at hand, but he always answered at least one of them eventually.

Now all the numbers he had for Atobe were turning out to be useless.

“So who was it?” Okay, so maybe he was getting closer to running, since Gakuto actually had to break into a light jog to keep up with his strides. “What happened?”

“It was Sanada.” Yuushi sighed, adjusting his glasses. He could already see the gates, yet the distance seemed unbearably long. “He thinks there’s something going on with Atobe. He can’t even reach him over their connection.”

“Fuck.” Well, Gakuto always did have a talent for summarizing things succinctly. “You mean Atobe shut him out? That seems weird, he’s been pretty clear he wants his powers under control.”

“I mean the connection’s there, but Sanada can’t hear anything. Like Atobe’s just shut off.” Which he supposed was still not the worst case scenario, but that was pretty damn worrying. “Sanada said it’s not like when Atobe’s asleep, and I suppose he’d know.”

“So you think something happened.”

“Right now, I know something’s happened. The only question’s what.” He tried not to be too impatient as he reached the phone next to the gate and all but punched the button, the answer seemingly taking forever to arrive.

“Please state your business.” The voice over the phone was pleasant enough, if rather detached. At least it didn’t seem the whole estate was going up in flames or anything.

“We’re friends of Atobe! Er, Keigo-kun, that is. Mukahi-kun and Oshitari-kun?” Gakuto grinned, jumping closer before Yuushi could answer. There was some tension in his partner’s small frame, but he sounded cheerful enough. “Is Atobe home?”

There was some silence, no doubt as whoever they were talking to conferred with someone else. Then the voice returned, still sounding perfectly casual. This probably should have been reassuring, but Yuushi couldn’t banish the nagging worry at the back of his mind. “Ah, yes, Keigo-sama should be at the sports complex at the moment. Will you need someone to show you the way?”

“No, we’ve got it. Thanks!” Gakuto barely held himself still as the gate slowly opened, then broke into a run. “Come on, Yuushi!”

Yuushi couldn’t really protest, not under the circumstances. Nobody here seemed worried at all, yet clearly something had happened with Atobe. Which meant nobody knew what was going on, or if he needed help. Damn it.

The grounds were vast, but they weren’t exactly slow, quickly making their way to the building at the other end of the garden near the stables. The sports complex was pretty new, having only been built a few years ago after the Atobes made the building their primary home, but Yuushi had already seen the inside of it countless times. This was Atobe’s realm, one that he delighted in showing off to his friends but where he was mostly alone if his teammates weren’t around. Which meant he was most likely all alone in the building.

Yuushi felt the chill in the air as soon as he stepped inside after Gakuto. He wasn’t sure what to make of it exactly, but it definitely wasn’t a good sign. Frowning, he rushed further in, mentally cataloguing all the potential locations. There was the small home gym, and the indoor tennis court, and the locker room and —

“Yuushi!” Gakuto’s voice shattered his thoughts, urgent and fearful all at once. It was coming from the direction of the pool. All of a sudden, it wasn’t just the cold air that made Yuushi shiver.

As he rushed over, he was certainly not prepared for the sight that met him. There were a thousand awful possibilities that were running through his mind, yet seeing the entire pool frozen over was definitely not one of them. Even the floor and parts of the walls were covered in frost, turning the whole room into some kind of a twisted winter wonderland.

It took him a moment to take all this in, which was why he first missed the most glaring problem. As the took another glance at the pool, though, he gasped out a curse.

The ice was a weird sort of translucent, not clear like ice cubes yet not entirely opaque, either. At first he’d thought that was all there was to it, but now he noticed something he had somehow managed to miss at first. In the middle of the pool, somewhere under the not-quite clear surface, a shadow caught his eyes.

A shadow that looked an awful lot like a person.

“Gakkun, get help.” It was probably stupid, rushing over to the pool when he had no idea if the ice would even carry him, but that was not the point now. Hell, he wished he could make it break that easily, yet even as he stepped onto the ice there wasn’t even a crack. “Call an ambulance and get the house staff here. Oh, and get me one of the small dumbbells from the gym.”

Gakuto thankfully didn’t waste time on questions, drawing out his phone as he hurried out of the room. Yuushi made his way to the center of the pool, kneeling down. The ice wasn’t entirely level, he noticed now that he was actually on it, with a small incline climbing up towards the center. As he pressed his hand against the chilly surface, melting away some of the frost covering it, he got a better look at the shadow underneath. Yes, definitely a person.

He couldn’t do much about the ice with his bare hands, but thankfully Gakuto returned a moment later, speaking on the phone to someone in a distressed tone. Getting closer to the pool, he tossed Yuushi a heavy-looking dumbbell. It wasn’t the most elegant tool, but it was hard and solid enough for him to start chipping away at the ice.

What followed was something of a blur. Yuushi was only vaguely aware of being joined first by Gakuto, then by a few horrified servants, all working together to break through the thick sheet of ice. He couldn’t even truly feel relief when they first broke the surface and found a pocket of air underneath, no doubt thanks to the raised center. With this better vantage point they saw it was definitely Atobe lying underneath, floating unconscious in the water.

Well. Hopefully he was just unconscious.

It took them even longer to break through enough of the ice to get Atobe out, not exactly helped by the fact they now needed to be careful not to fall into the water themselves. Finally they managed to get Atobe out of the water, though, and Gakuto actually sobbed with relief as they realized he was still alive.

Alive, but wet and freezing, and Yuushi couldn’t quite bring himself to be hopeful yet as they watched Atobe getting carried off to the ambulance waiting outside. He’d never seen his captain so still and pale, his lips blue and looking all but dead.

“Yuushi?” Gakuto pressed up to his chest, shivering and probably not entirely out of the cold. Yuushi wrapped his arms around his partner, knowing he was probably not much of a heater right now but could at least try to offer some comfort.

“It’s going to be fine.” His voice sounded hollow even in his own ears, but he had to try. He needed to try and reassure at least one of them. “He’s going to be fine. We found him just in time.” He didn’t dare even think of what would have happened if Sanada hadn’t called him, if they hadn’t happened to be close by. There was only so much air that could have been trapped under the ice.

“But… Yuushi, I don’t get it.” Gakuto sounded desperate for answers, his voice trembling. “Why would Atobe be in the pool in full clothes?”

Yuushi wanted to say something, wanted to offer some sort of an answer. However, he couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t have made Gakuto feel even worse. “He’s Atobe,” he finally said, not feeling very reassured by his own theory. “You know him. I wouldn’t put it past him to go for a swim without bothering to change.”

“B-but!” Gakuto protested, hand clenching at Yuushi’s shirt. “When they were carrying him off, I —” Gakuto paused. “I saw his phone falling out of his pocket,” he murmured, his voice almost breaking. “He’d at least leave that off… right?”

Yuushi had nothing to say to that, simply holding Gakuto even closer.

He already dreaded trying to think of something to say to Sanada in explanation.

*

When Sanada walked into the room, the air was noticeably colder.

He supposed there was no helping it, really. Even without a proper connection he could feel echoes of Atobe’s powers, of the new current that had joined the already familiar one within him. If neither Atobe nor Sanada was working to control all that power, it had to go somewhere.

Atobe looked… well. All right, perhaps well wasn’t the best word, but at least he was awake. As he noticed Sanada’s entrance, he nodded at the serious-looking man standing in the corner of the room. The man nodded in return, stepping out of the room past Sanada and closing the door after him.

“Sanada.” Atobe’s voice sounded rough. “I should have known you would show up sooner or later.”

Sanada chose not to comment on that, simply nodding. “How are you?”

“Tired. Annoyed at all the poking and prodding. Aside from that, I’m fine, though they insist on keeping me here for observation, still. It seems I can’t get frostbite from ice that’s my own making, which is rather fortunate, really.”

“Hn. That’s good.” Sanada nodded.

“Indeed. I am rather fond of my fingers and toes, as it happens.” Atobe paused. “Apparently you’re the one who alerted Oshitari?”

“Right.” Sanada bowed his head. “I’m glad they found you in time.” He’d heard the basics of Atobe’s condition from a very serious Oshitari, which had been just enough to make him more worried. “Apparently your secondary powers awakened at the perfect time.”

“I suppose.” Atobe sighed. “Frankly, I don’t remember much. Whatever happened wasn’t conscious at my part. Clearly it was my powers at work, though, so we can only assume some part of me acted on instinct to freeze the pool in a way that created an air pocket.”

“So it seems.” Which only confirmed their suspicions that the new powers were not the reason Atobe had been in the water in the first place. “Atobe.” Sanada’s voice came out somewhat rough, but he wasn’t sure he could be blamed for it under the circumstances. “Please tell me you didn’t try to kill yourself because of me.”

“Don’t worry.” Atobe kept his gaze turned away from Sanada, though he supposed in Atobe’s case, that was no guarantee that he didn’t see Sanada. “You were not the reason.”

That was… not the answer he had hoped for, but apparently it was the best he would get. At least Atobe was being honest. Sanada supposed that was better than the alternative. “Forgive me if that’s difficult to believe,” he murmured. “All I know is that you were yelling at me one moment and throwing yourself in the pool the next.”

“Don’t think too highly of yourself. You are far from the only influence in my life, you know.” Atobe sighed. “At that time… how much did you see, exactly?”

“Not much that I could understand.” Sanada shook his head. “Images, words, most of it too jumbled up for me to make sense of it.” He paused. “I heard a woman saying the name Sayuri.” For some reason the emotions had been the strongest surrounding that memory, so it had stood out from the chaos.

“I suppose you would have, yes.” Atobe paused. “Do you actually want to know why I did it?”

Sanada lifted his eyebrows. “You would tell me?”

“I’m rather under the impression that I owe you my life. My only options seem to be to either feel resentful at you for ruining my plans, or to assume I can trust you not to wish me harm.” Atobe sighed. “Even so, I’m not going to burden you with my troubles if you’d rather not listen. Goodness knows even I find the whole mess dreary.”

“What, Atobe Keigo is not overly enthusiastic to speak about himself?” Sanada’s lips twitched. “To think I’d see the day.”

“I only pretend to think I’m the most interesting topic in the world.” Atobe paused, then added, “Obviously that’s actually my dog.”

Sanada snorted despite himself. “And yet I’ve never heard you talk about your dog.”

“Of course not. He can be a bit shy sometimes, so I try not to bring him into the limelight too often.” Whatever small smile had tried to sneak onto Atobe’s lips faded away. “It’s your choice if you want to know or not. If you do, though, I’m going to have to insist that you promise to keep what I’m about to tell you a secret.”

“You have my word on it.” Sanada nodded grimly. “I’d like to think I’m a man of honor, Atobe. I have no intention of telling anyone the truth of what happened, and certainly not whatever would have driven you to such extremes.”

“Hm. I suppose that does sound like you.” Atobe sighed, leaning back on the pillows, gaze wandering up to the ceiling. “Say… have you ever looked in the mirror and wondered if you are truly seeing yourself?”

“I can’t say I have.” It was the obvious answer, yet somehow he didn’t think it was quite that simple for Atobe. He would not ask such strange questions without reason, after all.

“You can count yourself lucky, then.” Atobe closed his eyes briefly. “The woman you heard in my memories… that would likely be my mother.” He paused, then added, “She died when I was four. Her voice is about the only thing I remember.”

Sanada nodded slowly. “And… Sayuri?”

Atobe’s lips curled a little, though there was no humor in the expression. “That would have been me.”

Sanada frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“It’s quite simple, really.” Atobe opened his eyes again, holding Sanada’s gaze for a moment. “When I was born, my parents assumed they had a daughter. I didn’t manage to tell them otherwise until after my mother was already gone.”

“I… see.” He wasn’t sure he understood it fully, but at least he had some sort of an idea of what was going on. “And because of that, you aren’t sure if what you see in the mirror is truly you?”

“Something like that.” Atobe sighed. “I am a man. That is what feels right to me, what makes sense to me. Yet sometimes, I can’t help but wonder if I’m not just… mistaken.”

“Why, though?” Sanada frowned. “I would imagine that is something that you either know or you don’t.”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Atobe looked up to the ceiling again. “It’s sometimes hard to convince myself of that, when people keep saying my preferences or mannerisms are inherently feminine. What if I am indeed delusional, or looking for attention, or any of the myriad accusations people will throw at those like me? After all, I clearly don’t make a very manly man, so why do I keep pretending?”

“Nonsense.” That, at least, was easy to say. “It’s the heart and soul that defines the man, not someone else’s opinions.”

“I wonder.” Atobe reached up to run a hand through his hair. “It’s hard to remember sometimes, when I wonder if there’s any point to try to achieve the body I wish for when it will never be perfect anyway, when people who do not even know about my lacking body call me by feminine names for my personality instead. Even if I try not to pay heed to their words, it’s hard to avoid being influenced by them when they echo my own thoughts so closely.”

“And… that’s why?” It was hard to imagine anything bringing down someone as strong as Atobe, but then Sanada had to admit he had no personal experience with such challenges.

“I suppose.” Atobe sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s… it doesn’t help that I don’t have Kabaji by my side, now. He’s known me nearly my entire life and never doubted my word. The last time we were in different schools I was younger, and such things did not seem so important yet. Now… it’s not so simple anymore.”

“I would imagine not, no.” Sanada paused. “I… cannot help you with such troubles. All I can offer is my assurance is that I have never thought of you as anything but a man. A man with a somewhat peculiar fashion sense and interests that differ from mine, sure, but still a man. And for what it’s worth, that has not changed.”

“It’s better than the alternative, at least.” Atobe closed his eyes. “I have no excuses to offer. These are the same troubles I have been dealing with for years, and the absence of Kabaji should not account for so much difference.”

“You forget the added stress of having your powers awaken and dealing with all of that.” Sanada folded his arms over his chest. “Either way, I’m not looking for excuses, or indeed even reasons. My interest in your decision boils down to two questions, and two questions only.” As Atobe opened his eyes to give Sanada a puzzled look, he grunted. “One, whether I had a hand in causing it. And two, whether there is anything I can do to keep it from occurring again.”

“But… why?” Atobe sounded genuinely baffled, and Sanada tried not to feel a sting at that. “Why does it matter so much?”

“Because for all our differences, you are a good man and a worthy rival. Because tennis and indeed the world would be poorer for your absence.” Sanada paused. “Because it should not surprise you so that I would want you to live, and if I have given you such a poor image of myself, my honor demands that I correct it.”

“Careful,” Atobe murmured. “I might soon start thinking you like me.”

“I have been accused of worse things.” Sanada paused, then added, “Though not very many.”

For a moment, Atobe stared at him. Then he started laughing, a hoarse, broken sound that was echoed by small waves of power rippling out from him. Sanada stood firm even as the air around him grew even colder, a winter chill spreading out into the already cool room. He resisted the shivers threatening to run through his body, and instead waited until Atobe’s laugh came to a stop.

“It seems you’ll have to learn more control, still. Unless you felt like cooling down?”

“Yes, well, I haven’t exactly had to the time to practice.” Atobe gave him a wry smile. “At least this time my brain isn’t struggling to adjust.”

“Hn.” Sanada nodded. “If you need help with that…”

“I know who to turn to, yes.” Atobe sighed. “I… wouldn’t say no to some limits right now.”

“Understood.” He didn’t really need to step closer, could have just as well adjusted the stream through the somewhat shaky but existing connection they already had, but after having it stretched so thin he figured it was best not to take chances. His fingertips brushed against Atobe’s temple only briefly, but that was enough. The faint link grew into an echo of emotions, exhaustion and uncertainty and a touch of fear, and along with that he got a better grasp of the powers coursing through. A simple nudge redirected most of the stream towards himself, eating away at the energy. Some of the tension bleeding through faded as Atobe managed to relax, if only a little.

“Thank you.” Atobe sank deeper into the hospital bed, still looking far too pale for Sanada’s liking. “I… suppose I might as well get some sleep, since they’re not letting me go anyway.”

“I’ll let you sleep, then.” Sanada nodded. “Let me know if you need any, ah, adjustments.”

“I will.” Atobe closed his eyes.

Sanada stepped towards the door, then paused. He still wasn’t quite sure what to say, but he couldn’t ignore the feelings swirling right at the border of his mind. The rest he understood, but the fear… “Atobe?”

“Hm?” A surprisingly simple answer form the usually eloquent man, but Sanada supposed it was understandable under the circumstances.

“I will speak with Oshitari to make sure our stories match regarding your, ah, incident.” They certainly couldn’t just tell everyone the cruel truth. “As for the rest of it… none of what you told me will leave this room.”

The fear didn’t disappear, not quite, but it did lose some of its edge. That was enough for Sanada, who opened the door and stepped out of the room. The man who had been there at his arrival was waiting right outside the door, walking past Sanada to no doubt take his original place in the corner. He heard nothing from Atobe to acknowledge this arrival, didn’t feel anything but a hint of resignation through the connection.

Security, no doubt. Though against what, Sanada wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He’d already heard far too much.


	5. Healing

“Ice?” Seiichi echoed. “That… seems rather appropriate, come to think of it. He does make something of a theme of it, doesn’t he?”

“Indeed.” Sanada nodded. “Of course, it might have been better if those powers hadn’t decided to awaken while he was in the water. Apparently the strain knocked him out, which, well. It wasn’t ideal, considering the circumstances.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly, for all that it wasn’t the whole truth, either. Oshitari clearly had a knack for twisting everything just so. He still didn’t like the idea of basically deceiving Seiichi and Renji, but not only had he given Atobe his word, he had also made it clear to his friends from the start that he would not be spreading anything he found out through his connection.

Seiichi gave him a surprisingly sharp gaze, no doubt suspecting something else was amiss, but didn’t push any further. Instead, he flashed a particularly sweet smile. “I must say, Atobe is very fortunate to have such a valiant protector. Don’t you think so, Renji?”

“Indeed.” Renji smiled too, because Sanada had an awful taste in friends. “It’s a good thing that Genichirou cares so deeply about him.”

“Hn.” There was really no reason to put it like that, but he knew it would be useless to argue. “He’s a good rival.”

“Yes, of course. Your rival. That is precisely why you are interested.” And really, what was with all those smiles? “He’ll at least recover soon, I hope?”

“So they say.” Which was all he could say about that, though he was painfully aware it wasn’t just the physical damage they had to worry about. “They want to keep him for observation a bit longer to make sure the cold and potential oxygen deprivation didn’t do any damage.”

He half expected Seiichi to make some snide comment, perhaps ask ever so innocently how they were going to tell, but instead both of his friends just nodded.

“That sounds like a good approach. They wouldn’t want to take risks with that kind of thing.” Renji nodded. “Now, if you need to visit him more often, I would be happy to fill in for you wherever Seiichi needs assistance.”

“Hn.” Sanada snorted. “I’m sure I can schedule my visits around the practice schedule, but thanks.”

And, really. What were those gazes supposed to be about?

*

Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to go back to school so quickly, but at this point, he just wanted out of the house and the constant surveillance.

Not that he could blame his father for being so protective, of course. He had hardly given anyone reason to trust him to look after himself under these circumstances. At least at school he was constantly surrounded by people, so he didn’t need to be followed around by security or house staff.

Of course, the flip side of this was that he was constantly surrounded by people. This was usually quite fine, he had nothing against social situations most of the time, but it did become something of a strain when he was already working hard to appear normal. He could only hope people would simply assume any less than perfect moments were due to having very nearly died not so long ago.

Well, most people would, at least. Gakuto was doing a good job of pretending to be his carefree self, but sometimes he was trying almost too hard to be so, and Oshitari’s eyes stopped upon Atobe just a bit too often to be casual.

To be honest, Atobe did not know exactly how many details the rest of the regulars had been given. He was fairly sure Oshitari had told them more than the official explanation, so to speak, but probably not the full extent of it. If he had wondered if they actually knew just what had upset him enough to push Oshitari to check in on him, it was made quite clear as the regulars were gathered together over lunch break and Shishido decided to open his big mouth.

“Chocolates again, Atobe?” Shishido rolled his eyes as Atobe took out the box of chocolates he’d saved for dessert. “Sometimes, you’re really such a girl.”

In an instant, everyone froze. Even Shishido himself caught on a moment later, eyes widening for a moment before he took on the stubborn expression of one who knows he’s made a misstep but can’t bear to back down.

“Shishido,” Oshitari said, but left it at that. This wasn’t the time or the place for such discussion.

“What? It’s true,” Shishido grumbled. “Candy is for kids and girls.”

Atobe was aware he had to keep his reaction from showing, of course, but he hadn’t realized how badly he was affected until he felt a wave of anger from Sanada of all people. Huh. He hadn’t even realized he was sending anything Sanada’s way.

“Really? That is most unfortunate, then.” Atobe forced a smirk onto his face, turning back to his box of chocolates. “Gakuto? Jirou? Would you like some of my chocolate? I have to warn you, though, we may have to transfer to the girls’ tennis club if you accept.”

“Worth it.” Gakuto immediately appeared at his shoulder, snatching a couple of the sweets. His hand touched Atobe’s shoulder just a bit too long to be simply casual, but, well. It was appreciated. “Besides, my legs would look great in a skirt.”

“Ohh, me too, me too!” Of course Jirou was completely awake at the promise of treats. “I’m going to have the cutest pigtails!”

“Actually, I have an even better idea.” Atobe allowed a bit of a sharper edge into his smirk. “How about we eat the rest of these at the start of practice while we watch how many laps Shishido can run?” Petty, perhaps, but he was the captain, surely he was owed some respect. Apparently even Shishido couldn’t disagree too much, since he kept his grumbles relatively low.

That could have been the end of it, except Oshitari came up to him once lunch was over, leaning close to murmur at him. “All right?”

“I’ll be fine.” Atobe wanted to snap something about how such things were nothing, but, well. Oshitari had literally dug him out of ice after he tried to drown himself, so such reassurances probably wouldn’t carry much weight.

“I’ll have a talk with Shishido later.” Oshitari’s glasses flashed, making it rather clear that there was going to be no arguing. Really. Didn’t anyone respect the captain anymore?

“Do what you wish.” A phone buzzed, and Atobe reached into his pocket. He had a new message.

_‘I would have handled that differently.’_

Atobe snorted, ignoring Oshitari’s curious gaze as he typed back. _‘Next time I’ll be sure to send any disrespectful players over to Rikkai so you can slap them for me.’_

That gained him a wave of amusement, which was still somewhat strange coming from Sanada, but less so than having Sanada feel protective over him. A bit later, there was another message. _‘Yukimura likes sweets, too.’_

And really, that shouldn’t have made Atobe feel any better, and yet here he was smiling.

*

Sanada was not prying, in fact made a conscious effort not to touch his connection with Atobe unless necessary. However, it was inevitable for such a connection to get deeper with time. Furthermore, as they had already noticed, strong emotions tended to cut through without much effort, and Atobe had plenty of those.

While he had been aware the connection would deepen over time, what truly surprised him was the way it reached beyond emotions. He’d seen a glimpse of it during Atobe’s breakdown, of words and sights rather than just sensations, but even that had been Atobe’s memories. As it turned out, sometimes he was able to simply sense what was going on around Atobe, particularly if prompted by a spike of emotions. Atobe did not seem to mind, though, or at least found it preferable to the alternative.

“The connection saved my life once,” Atobe said the one time Sanada brought this up. They were meeting at a fast food place, though Atobe treated the food with visible suspicion. “While I would hope that situation will not repeat, I have no problem with this. Besides, from what I hear, I should be able to learn to limit that with practice.”

“It’s your privacy at stake.” Sanada shrugged.

“Oh, I am aware. I also trust I would feel the difference if you were actively poking around in my head.” Atobe shook his head. “In any case, you already know my greatest secret, and haven’t spread rumors so far.”

“And I won’t.” Sanada frowned. “It would be quite dishonorable of me to betray your trust like that.”

“And I know you are nothing but honorable.” Atobe smiled, a proper happy smile rather than a smirk.

Sanada found he liked that.

While they had thus discussed the issue, it turned out things were not going to be that simple. He had gotten more or less used to the presence of Atobe at the back of his mind, the faint waves of emotions fluctuating with Atobe’s daily life. It was almost comforting now, knowing everything was fine with his rival.

One day he was dealing with the consequences of Niou’s latest trick, chewing him out for the chaos he had caused, when his angry tirade was shaken by a sudden burst of amusement from Atobe’s direction. He managed to push it aside until he was done, then stepped aside to ask Atobe what exactly was so funny. To his surprise, he found a text already waiting for him.

_‘How exactly did he manage to get glitter over all your uniforms?’_

Sanada blinked at the text, confused for a moment. Then it dawned on him. This time, no doubt thanks to his own strong emotions, Atobe had caught a glimpse of his life in turn. That was… interesting. Not necessarily bad, just unexpected. He hadn’t even known the connection could work in that direction.

_‘I would rather forget the whole thing.’_

_‘Afraid I would get ideas?’_

Sanada snorted at the idea, then typed his response. _‘I don’t think you need any assistance in making your life sparkly.’_

He knew the moment Atobe read his text because he felt another burst of amusement. He expected another text in response, but instead he heard an echo of Atobe’s voice inside his mind.

“I will take that as a compliment.”

Sanada wasn’t sure if he could reply in kind, but it was worth a try. Focusing on the connection, he imagined himself speaking to Atobe. He was thinking in words anyway, surely that should suffice? ‘You do tend to be rather, ah, shiny. …It suits you.’

There was a pause, and Sanada wondered if his message had gone through. Then, however, he heard Atobe’s voice again.

“I’m not sure if I should compliment you for learning a new skill, or ask if you actually meant for me to hear all that.”

Sanada’s lips twitched. ‘If you plan on invading my thoughts, I need to find some way to retain mystery.’

The response this time was a mixture of sound and feeling, a faint approximation of Atobe’s laughter combined with the sensation of amusement. It was so clear, so vivid, that he couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath as well.

Renji gave him a strange look, but Sanada offered no explanation. His friends were weird enough about Atobe as it was.


	6. Match

Sanada very nearly hated to admit it, but he was rather happy to see Hyoutei was on the opposite side of the bracket from them.

Not that he had any doubt they would come against each other sooner or later, both their teams had been excellent this year and even Marui’s ankle had recovered. However, there was something very special about the finals. Even though he couldn’t play against Atobe directly, it would be a true pleasure to face his team in the most important match of the year.

Before they got to that point, however, both their teams had other opponents to beat. Sanada hadn’t really even considered that might change things, not until he took a closer look at the bracket. There was another team who were climbing up rather fast on Hyoutei’s side, one who might prove to be troublesome.

Higa. Sanada would not be pleased if those brutes knocked Hyoutei out of the running.

As it turned out, Higa was in good fighting condition, knocking out opponents one by one. Rather literally so in some cases, as he heard of players injured by Higa’s aggressive style.

He had to trust in the ability of Atobe and the rest of Hyoutei regulars, though. If anyone besides Rikkai was capable of knocking Higa down a peg, it was Hyoutei. Not only had they done well in the tournaments so far, but Sanada had also had the privilege of catching glimpses of Hyoutei’s practice. It was nothing he could use to his advantage even if he’d had the inclination, but he was very confident in Hyoutei’s ability to make it to the finals to meet them there.

It had been a warm summer, but the day of the semi-finals was turning out to be dangerously hot. Merely being outside was an exhausting ordeal, and playing was obviously going to be a pain. Well, for most people it was. Higa players seemed to barely notice the weather, smirking as they threw around mentions of almost feeling at home. They would be more used to such conditions, being from the south, and were exploiting it to the fullest.

Despite the conditions, Hyoutei players fought valiantly. Sanada couldn’t help but give them his grudging respect. By the time Rikkai was done with their own matches, Hyoutei was just wrapping up their second to last one, the teams drawn at two to two. The rest of Rikkai joined Sanada as he headed over to Hyoutei. No doubt they all wanted to see Atobe going against Kite.

This was not going to end well.

Sanada had thought Atobe would choose to go for his more aggressive style, trying to finish the match before the heat could get to him. After all, Kite clearly had the advantage here, downright gloating about how the heat was nothing to him. Yet here was Atobe with his usual strategy, clearly aiming to drag on the match despite the odds being stacked against him.

Sanada frowned, keeping an eye on the match. For the time being Atobe and Kite were playing fairly equally, though Atobe was clearly not giving it his all. What sort of insanity would drive him to try to fight a battle of endurance against an Okinawan during a heatwave, Sanada had no idea, yet that was clearly his goal here.

He had to admit that Atobe still managed to live up to his reputation of unmatched stamina, even under the circumstances. For all that he was clearly working hard, he didn’t let up the pressure. Even so, as the court change was called and Atobe walked over to the bench, Sanada saw how badly he was sweating. Getting a closer look, he could tell Atobe was moving more sluggishly than usual at this point in a match, could feel the strain of exhaustion through their connection.

The sun wasn’t letting up, beaming down from the cloudless sky, and even Atobe’s composure was sure to crack sooner or later. Kite was probably counting on that, the smug bastard. That was the only feasible reason for why he wasn’t being even more aggressive, not that Atobe was having any trouble with returning even Kite’s heaviest shots when they made an appearance. Sanada supposed that was thanks to training with Kabaji. Either way, when neither of the two would play to their fullest, lengthening the match on purpose, there was a good chance that the final result would be decided by the sun.

Sanada could help. He could open the gates, just enough to allow through a trickle of power, only as much as Atobe needed to cool himself down with ice. It wouldn’t even be cheating, really, he knew Atobe would never cheat even if he had the opportunity, it would just level the playing field a little. He couldn’t do that, though, he wouldn’t, not when he had promised on his honor to keep Atobe’s powers under control during the match.

Yet if the match continued on like this, Atobe might…

“Sanada.” Atobe wasn’t speaking very loud, the single word only barely even reaching Sanada standing next to the bench, yet it was enough to shake him out of his thoughts. “I’m afraid… I will have to rely on you for a little longer, still.”

“Atobe.” Sanada frowned. “Are you sure this is wise?”

“When has that ever been the relevant question?” Atobe smirked, but sobered a little at Sanada’s serious gaze. “Do not worry. I have no plans to push myself further than I can go.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I’m not exactly convinced.” Sanada shook his head. Even he was feeling the oppressive heat, and he’d been standing still. “You don’t exactly have a history of knowing your limits.”

“I know them perfectly well, it’s abiding them that sometimes gives me trouble.” Atobe stood up, wiping sweat from his face for one last time before grasping his racket again. “But if you’d rather not take my word for it… you are welcome to monitor me as you wish.”

“Careful.” Sanada tugged at his cap. “If you give me permission to do that, I’ll end up dragging you off the court at some point.”

“If you think I’m about to faint? Fine. Otherwise, I’ll thank you to stay out of it.” Well. That was more than Sanada had expected. It was also apparently all Atobe found it necessary to say before he walked back out to the court, shifting the racket in his hand as though one testing his weapon before battle.

Sanada huffed, sitting down on the bench. Clearly it was a captain quality to be unable to let go no matter what.

Sanada crossed his arms over his chest, closing his eyes as he sought to close out the sounds of the crowd. If Atobe had given him permission, Sanada might just as well show him that he was serious.

Expanding the barely-there connection was startlingly easy, especially as Atobe made no move to resist. The earlier brushes of emotion, of the familiar determination and focus and perseverance, burst into life as bright flames rather than just distant sparks. There were still no thoughts as such, no consideration beyond the simple patterns of attack and defend. Then, he supposed there would be no time for leisurely chatter in Atobe’s mind, not against an opponent of such caliber.

It was… strange, seeing a tennis match through the eyes of another. Even with his powers channeled entirely into Sanada, Atobe seemed to have a sharper focus on everything than Sanada was used to, everything appearing vibrant and bright and alive. He supposed this was the famous Insight at work, even more impressive from the inside than merely witnessed from the audience. He could see every twitch of Kite’s body, the flight of the ball, everything in exact detail that burned as bright as the sun overhead. Sanada very nearly wanted to shadow his own eyes, for all that they were not only already protected by his cap but entirely closed. Even so, Atobe did not seem to shy away from such brightness, gave no sign that this wasn’t perfectly ordinary. Perhaps for him, it was.

Not once did Atobe’s eyes stray away from the match while the ball was moving, not to the benches or even the audience. Good. Sanada would have been quite disappointed if his rival had been so easily distracted.

It wasn’t just the vision, though that was certainly the most striking part of it all. At first the rest of it was faint, his mind focusing on the most obvious sensations even with their connection, but slowly he gained more focus. There was the burn of the sun on his skin and the unbearable heat that had no mercy, there were echoes of fatigue trembling through his legs even as he sat still. His mouth felt dry, his thoughts jumbled beyond the simple pattern of chasing the ball and returning it. Even so, Atobe refused to waver, meeting Kite point for point, swing for swing. Sanada wasn’t quite sure if he should be impressed or exasperated.

That was the important part, anyway, rather than what he could see. It was tricky, filtering out some of the sensations and not the rest, but Sanada had never been one to back out from a challenge. If he shut out everything else, the state of Atobe’s body became that much clearer, carved into his mind in harsh detail. Even then, though, he could tell Atobe was not at his limit yet. He was skirting awfully close to those limits sometimes, was pushing himself far enough and hard enough that more than once Sanada was ready to spring to his feet and rush over to him, yet somehow it never got to be too much. Not quite.

There might have been the slightest hint of smugness flashing through, one that he studiously ignored. Atobe did not exactly have the best track record in acknowledging his limits.

Focused as he was on Atobe’s body, Sanada was startled when Atobe suddenly came to a halt, the persistent feeling of a phantom racket in his grip replaced by the warm, sweating skin of quivering legs. Even so he couldn’t truly feel any weakness or fear, just… triumph?

Eyes snapping open, Sanada found himself in the middle of a cheering crowd. He’d clearly missed the final call, but the result was clear enough once Atobe finally caught his breath and picked up his fallen racket, pointing it at Kite.

“Be awed at the sight of my prowess.” Atobe’s voice was hoarse, and Sanada could feel it scratching in his own throat, could feel the trembling of Atobe’s arms and the heat of his skin and every shuddering breath running through his body. Then the world was moving again, the court firm under feet that weren’t his, and just before he let most of the connection fade away he saw a glimpse of himself through Atobe’s eyes.

Atobe smirked at him, a delighted little expression even through his exhaustion, and then glanced back over his shoulder. “Referee. I am off the court, correct?”

As soon as they got the affirmative reply, Sanada felt a small nudge through the connection. It was not a request and certainly not an order, simply a reminder that it wasn’t all one way, yet it was all he needed to redirect the current rushing through his core back to its origin. The connection lingered, still, as he felt the power coursing through every last inch of Atobe’s body, felt it tingling under burned skin as the air around them grew colder in an instant.

“That feels good.” Atobe staggered more than walked the rest of the way to the bench, slumping down as Sanada wordlessly handed him a water bottle. His fingertips brushed against Atobe’s as he did so, the pale skin cool against his.

“I have to say this is interesting.” Kite was eyeing them with a smirk, for all that even he looked utterly exhausted after the match. “I see you’ve found yourself a new attack dog.”

Sanada was about to snap out a reply, but Atobe cut him off. “First, I will thank you not to refer to my friends in such a manner,” he spat out. “And second, Sanada is hardly mine. For one thing, I rather suspect his captain would have some problems with me claiming him for myself.”

“Hn.” Sanada tugged his cap a bit lower. “I’m only making sure Atobe’s still around for me to defeat.”

“Oh, you sweet talker.” Atobe smirked, squeezing his bottle hard enough to make a bit of water squirt out. It immediately froze into glittering dust in the air, falling upon them in a cooling cloud.

Atobe hissed as some of it landed on his arm, and Sanada frowned. That did not make sense, not when he could still feel waves of warmth through their connection even as the air grew cold. Unless…

“Atobe!” Here was the rest of Hyoutei, of course, crowding around their captain to congratulate him. Akutagawa jumped forward in what looked an awful lot like an attempt at a hug. Sanada’s hand shot out before he even thought about it, stopping the assault.

“Don’t.” His voice took on a harsher tone, wanting to make sure he was obeyed even if these weren’t his own players. “His skin is badly burned.”

“Ahn, I fear you may be right.” Atobe glanced down at his arms, the usually pale skin shining red. “I would say something about the wonders of sunscreen, but I’m fairly sure I would have sweated it right off by now.”

“Ouch, that looks painful!” Akutagawa made a face. “Will you be all right, Atobe?”

“I’ll be fine, particularly now that I can actually attend to it. Still, I fear Sanada is right. I would prefer as little touching as possible.”

“To think I’d ever hear those words from you.” Sanada was mostly murmuring to himself, but of course Atobe would hear him, sitting so close.

“Oh, please. I can admit if someone else is right. It simply doesn’t happen very often, that’s all.” Atobe’s smirk only got worse, now. “For example, I told you I could finish the match.”

“So you did. And do you really want me to count how many times I was ready to rush over to the court and carry you away before you collapsed?”

“Clearly too often, considering I’m still fine.” At Sanada’s glare, Atobe rolled his eyes. “All right, not quite fine exactly, but conscious.”

“Better.” Sanada grunted. “Now get some water into yourself. For all my threats I’m not actually going to carry you if you faint out of dehydration the moment you stand up. Particularly since I’d probably get frostbite at this point.”

“Oh, please. I’m not that cold.” As though to prove this, Atobe leaned closer, going as far as to lean his head on Sanada’s shoulder. The cold air made Sanada shiver. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with the way Atobe’s weight rested against him, or the slight tickle of Atobe’s hair against his neck. “And even if I were, you could easily put a stop to that, ahn?”

“Not if you’re unconscious and can’t give me your permission to do so.” He had principles, damn it. “I would not cut off your powers without consent.”

“Of course not. You’re so very honorable like that.” Atobe still didn’t move away, resting his weight against Sanada’s arm and shoulder, taking small sips of his water. Sanada might have found it embarrassing, especially with the Hyoutei regulars still surrounding them and chattering incessantly, but he wasn’t going to tell Atobe to draw away. Not when he could feel the bone-deep exhaustion weighing Atobe down, nearly wondered if he wasn’t the one with his arms and legs filled with lead.

If anyone tried to question him, Sanada was merely enjoying having a personal cooler.


	7. Sex

“You know, you didn’t need to actually follow me home.”

“Hn.” Sanada kept his arms stubbornly folded, staring in front of him. “Someone has to make sure you’re not going to collapse.”

“So stubborn.” Atobe huffed, sending a cold breeze Sanada’s way. The idiot didn’t even flinch, leaning back into the cushy seat of the car. “Do you actually think I’m going to be overheated, still?”

“Better safe than sorry.” Sanada huffed. “I wouldn’t put it past you to completely ignore the fact that you burned your skin and are probably dehydrated.”

“I had plenty of water, and I’ll promise to drink more.” Atobe rolled his eyes. “What do you plan to do, put lotion on me yourself?”

“If that’s what it takes.” And his expression still didn’t change. That was impressive.

“Fine.” Two could play this game. “If you insist, I suppose there’s no point in stopping you.”

That got him at least a burst of emotion through the connection, even if Sanada only grunted. Ha. Not so unflappable after all.

As the car finally got close to the house, Atobe snapped his fingers. That at least drew Sanada out of his grumpy state, though only to glare at him. “I’m not a dog.”

“Of course not. Beat is much nicer to cuddle than you are.” Atobe smirked. “Now, are you coming over or shall I ask the driver to take you home?”

“Hn.” Sanada tugged his cap down to cover his face a bit. “I don’t want to be trouble.”

“Oh, it won’t be trouble either way. It’s just a matter of how worried you are that I might neglect myself.” As the car came to a stop, he lifted an eyebrow. “Ahn? Which is it?”

“…You’re horrible at looking after yourself.” Which apparently meant Sanada was going to get out of the car after him.

“I would beg to differ, but somehow I don’t think I’m going to get you to change your mind.” Atobe shouldered his tennis bag, careful not to brush against his arm with the strap. Even if keeping the air around himself cool was helping, the burns still didn’t exactly appreciate being touched.

“Didn’t you say it yourself? I’m stubborn.” And indeed, Sanada followed him doggedly into the house, and all the way to Atobe’s room. Well, far it be from Atobe to stop him.

“I’d welcome you to my kingdom, but I like to think it extends a bit further than just this room.” Atobe dropped his tennis bag beside the door, crouching down to welcome the oncoming missile pretending to be his dog. “Hi there, boy! I’m not too cold for you, am I?”

Beat apparently didn’t mind, licking his face all over. Atobe chuckled, giving him some scratches as Sanada looked around.

“I’d say I’m impressed, but this is basically what I expected based on the rest of the place.” Sanada grunted.

“Oh?” Atobe laughed at the last enthusiastic lick to his face, then stood up. “You mean you’ve never seen the room before? That seems hard to believe.”

“I was trying to be tactful.” Sanada let his own bag fall next to Atobe’s. “I’m still not quite clear on the etiquette of acknowledging what I’ve seen without your intent.”

“You saw what a mess I was the day I decided to drown myself. I’d say seeing my room is pretty innocuous, compared with that.” He saw Sanada’s face fall a little, and sighed. “Don’t look like that. As you can see, I’m alive.”

“You expect me to be smiling when I think of you wanting to die?”

“No, but you also don’t need to look like you’re planning my wake, either.” Atobe huffed, walking over to his dressing table. If he recalled correctly, he should have some aloe vera lotion for the burns. “I’ve got an excellent therapist, my powers are more or less under control, and even my father has started meddling. Which is very awkward, let me tell you.”

“Awkward?” Sanada frowned. “Why would it be awkward? I would be surprised if he didn’t try to get involved when his only child is… unwell.”

“Clearly you’ve never met my father.” Atobe found the tube he was looking for, making a satisfied sound, only for it to get snatched right out of his hand. “My father is… well. He cares, but anything to do with expressing emotions requires work.”

“Hn.” Sanada snapped the tube open, then took a hold of Atobe’s wrist to stretch out his arm and squeeze some of the lotion onto the burned skin. “Stilted conversation?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Atobe sighed. “Last time we spoke he thought I looked out of sorts, and he actually asked if I’d gotten a girl in trouble before realizing his gay trans son probably isn’t going to get anyone pregnant.”

It only occurred to him belatedly that while Sanada was well aware of his gender issues, this was the first time he’d actually mentioned his orientation as well. Sanada, though, seemed to pay no mind. Grunting in response, he set the tube down in favor of starting to rub the lotion into Atobe’s skin. Why he thought it was necessary to go that far, Atobe wasn’t sure, but at least he was smart enough not to rub the burned skin too hard.

It felt rather good, actually. Sanada’s hands were warm against his chilled skin, contrasting with the cool lotion. His movements were careful yet firm, attending tired muscle as well as the burned skin.

“You know,” Atobe mused as Sanada moved onto the other arm, “I think you and my father are rather similar in that aspect.”

“Hm?” Sanada frowned, but kept his eyes on Atobe’s arm. “I have no trouble expressing emotions.”

“Oh, really.” Atobe couldn’t help but smirk. “I’m still not entirely convinced you don’t just outright hate me, and that’s with a telepathic link.”

“Atobe.” Now Sanada did look at him, and stayed still until Atobe met his eyes. “I have never hated you.”

“Oh?” He kept his smirk up, but somehow he didn’t feel amused. There was a strangely serious tone to Sanada’s voice, even considering his general dour demeanor.

“I don’t understand you.” Well, that was… something, at least. “Sometimes I don’t know what’s going on in your head even when I can see directly into it. But I figure that doesn’t matter.” Sanada’s hands slowed down, until he was just holding onto Atobe’s wrist, nearly holding his hand. “I don’t need to understand exactly how you feel about your body to know when you’re having a bad day. I don’t need to understand how your relationship with your team works to know that they’re important to you. And I certainly don’t need to understand why something would make you frown to know that I’d rather see you smile.”

“Ah.” Atobe suspected he might have flushed at that, which was absolutely ridiculous. Atobe Keigo did not blush. There was just something very intense about Sanada’s gaze right now, something that was certainly not helped by his steady, warm hands still holding onto Atobe.

Sanada definitely flushed as he seemed to realize what he’d said. He let go of Atobe’s arm, tugging his cap down a bit. “Hn. I seem to have said too much.” Embarrassment was pouring out of him in waves.

“Really? Because I’d say you’ve said just enough.” Emboldened, Atobe stepped closer, reaching to touch the side of Sanada’s face. Sanada flinched a bit, and Atobe belatedly let the cold air fade away. His arms felt much better now, anyway.

“Atobe…” Still embarrassment, and a warm chest nearly against his. Some confusion, too, but no disgust or anger. Atobe figured that was enough of a good sign that he dared to learn closer.

Sanada’s lips were slightly chapped, and really, that just wouldn’t do. Aside from that, though, it was… nice. There were no fireworks or even sparks, but it was nice, and Sanada was warm and strong. After a moment there were arms reaching around him, and okay, that was getting closer to spark territory.

“Hn.” Really, Sanada could work on his vocabulary a little. “That was…”

“Good, I hope?” Atobe was smirking, but he suspected Sanada could still feel the small bit of uncertainty lurking in the back of his mind.

“Not bad.” Huh. And here he’d almost been wondering how Sanada was still single.

“I’m pretty sure that’s good in Sanada-speak.” Atobe rolled his eyes, stealing one last quick kiss before stepping away. “Now, if you’re sufficiently convinced that my skin isn’t just going to fall off, I think I need to take a shower before it decides to crawl away on its own instead. If you’re staying for dinner, you can have the bathroom once I’m done.” A mischievous part of him wanted to suggest sharing the bathroom, but he was fairly sure that would have led to spontaneous combustion on Sanada’s part.

“I didn’t have a match. I’m fine.” The sensations coming off Sanada were leveling out, which he supposed was a good sign.

“Suit yourself.” Atobe shrugged, disentangling himself from Sanada’s arms. “Try to make sure Beat doesn’t destroy anything, please? He likes to show off when there are new people around.”

“I could say something about owners and pets, but…” Oh, and now Sanada was making fun of him, huh? Such nerve.

Atobe hurried through his shower a little faster than usual, not entirely sure if Sanada would still be there once he got out of the bathroom. As it turned out, his fear was unfounded, and he found Sanada perusing the bookshelf as he came back out, all clean now.

“You know, if you were anyone else, I’d accuse you of setting up pretentious books to appear more cultured.” Sanada ran his fingertips along the book spines. “I’ve seen enough glimpses of your daily life to know you simply have a rather peculiar taste in literature, though.”

“If it’ll make you feel any better, I can make some snobby comment about how I prefer to read Goethe in the original German.” Which was true enough, but at least he had the self-awareness to know how it sounded.

“You’re Atobe Keigo. I think you could sound snobby just commenting on the weather.”

“Careful, now. If I didn’t know better, I might start to think you don’t like me.” Atobe couldn’t help but notice that Sanada kept his gaze very firmly on the bookshelf, not glancing anywhere near Atobe. How adorable.

“I thought we already addressed this.” Sanada snorted. “Are you just fishing for compliments, now?”

“You know me. That is more or less my motivation for existing.” Atobe did hid best not to spend too long getting himself dressed, taking pity on Sanada. Besides, he was pretty sure dinner would be ready soon.

“Really? I could have sworn you were put on this Earth to be the embodiment of ridiculous tennis.”

“I’m going to have to refuse that particular honor, seeing how we live in a world where Yukimura and Echizen exist.” Atobe pulled on a light shirt, still careful with his arms. “And for the record, you can look over now without offending your delicate sensibilities.”

“I’ve spent far too much time in locker rooms to be offended by the sight of bare skin.” And yet it wasn’t until now that Sanada finally turned to look at him.

“Right. And I’m sure you just found my shelf of Greek poetry incredibly fascinating.” Atobe lifted his eyebrows.

“Ah.” And here was again the tugged cap. “That’s different.”

“Different how?” He was trying not to feel hurt, really, but it was getting a bit tricky. “Because I don’t have the exact same parts?”

“No.” Well, he supposed it was about time for Sanada to blush, again. “Because I didn’t want to get… distracted.”

Okay. He definitely wasn’t hurt by that statement.

“Well, they did postpone the rest of the matches due to the heat, so we have tomorrow free.” Atobe smirked a little. “So if you’d like to, ah, be distracted after dinner…”

Really, Sanada was going to turn into a tomato at this rate. “You’re impossible.”

“You say that like that’s a surprise.” He chuckled, then crouched down to clap his hands. “Beat! Come on, boy, let’s see if there’s dinner!”

Dinner was an… interesting affair. Atobe hardly even tasted the food for all that he was hungry after the long match, too distracted by Sanada’s, well, everything. They did manage some conversation, mostly about how the tournament was going. There was an unspoken agreement not to speculate on the upcoming finals, considering their respective stances were clear from the start. There was no reason to get into an argument when they would both see Hyoutei’s true superiority in a couple of days anyway.

Atobe was internally preparing himself for the very real possibility of Sanada simply leaving after the dinner. After all, some vague confessions and a bit of kissing didn’t necessarily mean he was ready for or even interested in anything more. As such, he tried to keep light conversation even as they made their way back to Atobe’s bedroom after eating. After all, Sanada did need to get his tennis bag no matter what.

“So.” Atobe gathered every bit of his not inconsiderable self-confidence and wrapped his arms around Sanada’s shoulders. “Should I get a car to take you home, or are you up for some distraction?”

“Hn.” Sanada seemed to be truly considering this, though the way his hands settled on Atobe’s waist was somewhat encouraging. “…Your dog is here.”

“Huh?” Atobe blinked, then chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. Beat always has a nap after dinner.” He nodded over to where Beat was, indeed, padding over to his doggy bed and settling down with an exaggerated yawn.

“Right.” Apparently that was the main reason for Sanada’s hesitation, as the next moment he was leaning in, kissing Atobe.

This was good, Atobe decided. This was very good, with the leisurely kisses and Sanada’s warm body against him and the strong hands at his waist. The kisses still weren’t terribly special, just sort of nice, but then that just meant they needed practice. And Atobe was nothing if not a hard worker.

It was easy enough to nudge Sanada towards the bed, Atobe only paying just enough attention to their surroundings to make sure they didn’t trip over anything. Sanada seemed similarly occupied, letting Atobe lead the way without complaints for once. Good. It would have been somewhat awkward if he’d started protesting at this point.

The bed was the perfect height for him to push Sanada back to sit on it. Atobe took advantage of this to straddle his thighs, pushing the cap off Sanada’s head so he could run his hands through the dark hair. As he slid his hands down to Sanada’s chest he could swear he felt Sanada’s heart thundering under his palms, echoing the beat of his own.

Sanada’s hands were at Atobe’s waist, slowly moving up and down. This kept dragging the hem of Atobe’s shirt up, and yes, he approved of that. Then the hands stilled, though, and Atobe thought he might have felt something almost like uncertainty leaking through. Frowning, he leaned back.

“Hey.” He waited until Sanada was looking him in the eye. “We don’t need to do anything if you don’t want to, you know.”

Sanada frowned up at Atobe. He really looked quite different without his ever-present cap. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m literally sitting on you and you look like a deer in the headlights. You’re lucky I’m a confident man, that sort of thing could get to me otherwise.” Atobe fought to keep his tone light, though inwardly he was screaming at himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had he ever thought Sanada would actually want him? It was one thing to call Atobe a man when things were purely in the abstract, but this, this was too much, he was an idiot for even thinking —

“Hey.” Sanada’s voice was low, echoing the sliver of calming reassurance that flooded Atobe’s mind. Fingertips brushed against his temple, reinforcing the feeling. “Whatever you’re thinking that makes you feel like that, stop it.”

Atobe couldn’t help but lean into the touch, just a little. He drew a deep breath, then another, trying to calm himself. It would do no good to get so worked up, after all. “…You mean you can’t tell?”

“I’ve told you before. I don’t look deeper than you permit. Still, when you get so emotional, I’m going to notice.” The hand from Atobe’s temple shifted, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “Atobe.”

“Yes?” He wasn’t going to get out of sorts, he wasn’t, even if his hands clutching tightly onto Sanada’s shirt might have suggested otherwise.

“I want this.” The sheer conviction in both Sanada’s voice and the part of his mind that was touching Atobe’s very nearly made him sob in relief. “I want you, Atobe Keigo, you maddening, brilliant creature. Do not doubt that.”

“Then why hesitate?” Atobe was pushing, he knew that, but he needed to know. “I want this. You want this. What’s the problem?”

“Ah.” God, was Sanada blushing again? “I just… I’ve never…”

Oh. Well, then.

“So we can figure it out together, ahn? I think I like the sound of that.” He leaned in for a kiss, rather enjoying the feel of Sanada’s hand still in his hair. It was going to end up a mess, but that was fine, just this once. Atobe wasn’t planning on going out in the public anytime soon.

It still took Sanada a moment to relax into the kiss, but the hand in Atobe’s hair was steady enough to keep him there. After a moment Sanada’s other hand settled on Atobe’s waist again, this time more deliberate as it tugged at his shirt. Good. That was progress.

“You can take it off, you know.” Atobe smirked into the kiss as Sanada gave something almost like a gasp.

“I would say the same applies to you, but you obviously don’t need encouragement.” Sanada chuckled against his lips. Clearly he didn’t mind the way Atobe was dragging Sanada’s shirt up to expose more of that magnificent chest.

“Well, you know me. I like taking the initiative.” Atobe smirked, chuckling as he tugged the shirt up with more intent, now. “I’ll still need you to cooperate a little, you know.”

“Same goes for you.” Even so, Sanada took his hands off Atobe for just long enough that Atobe could pull the shirt over his arms and head.

“Now this? I like this.” Atobe grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to Sanada’s bare shoulder. That earned him a sharp breath, which was quite encouraging.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Sanada apparently decided things should be made more equal, as he immediately got his hands back down to the hem of Atobe’s shirt. He was careful with removing it, though, taking care not to brush against Atobe’s burned arms too much.

“Such a gentleman you are.” Atobe smiled, hooking his hands behind Sanada’s head.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Sanada sounded awfully serious, as though he were making some sort of a solemn pledge rather than simply commenting on the sunburn.

“I know.” Atobe punctuated this with a quick kiss. “Do you think I would be here with you, like this, if I doubted that for a moment?”

“You don’t exactly always make the best calls regarding your own well-being.”

“And you’re a fussy mother hen, so obviously I’m going to be just fine in your capable hands.” Atobe leaned closer, their bare chests pressing against each other. He’d thought of this more often than he liked to admit, of being held close to all that firm muscle, and now that it was coming true he felt nearly dizzy.

Sanada’s hands were certainly capable, and just as eager as Atobe was. Now that the moment of hesitation was over, he seemed very eager to proceed. Strong arms held Atobe close before Sanada rolled them both properly onto the bed, and oh, that was very good indeed. Atobe was also very much in favor of Sanada’s apparent decision that they were both wearing far too much clothing, his hands joining Sanada’s in their task of fixing the situation.

Somewhere along the way Atobe’s nerves started to surface again, growing more urgent as more of his skin was bared. It was ridiculous, Atobe Keigo was not nervous after all, but then he had enough self-awareness to know this was his weak point. By the time they were both down to their underwear, he sat up next to Sanada, running a hand down that wonderful chest.

“Hey.” He tried not to let his uncertainty slip through into his voice, but judging by Sanada’s frown he couldn’t conceal the feelings pouring out from him. “You do want this, right?” It was not quite the most accurate question, but no matter the state of his nerves, Atobe could not bear to ask if Sanada wanted him in particular.

The next thing he knew he was pushed over to his back, Sanada hovering over him with eyes darkened with lust. And oh, wasn’t that at delicious sight. All that strong, well-defined muscle was on show just for him, open for him to touch and taste. Except before he could make any moves Sanada was leaning down, claiming his lips in a kiss that left no question on whether he was interested. There was something firm digging into Atobe’s hip as Sanada ground down and, oh, definitely interested.

“Stop doubting yourself,” Sanada murmured against his lips, voice low and full of promise. “You are Atobe Keigo, remember. I’m not sure it’s possible to know you and not want you.”

“Such a flatterer.” Atobe managed a smile, running his hands along Sanada’s sides and over to his back. “That will get you far, you know.”

“I’ll say it as many times as you need me to.” Sanada’s voice was steady and sure, not a hint of doubt in it. “And I’ll be happy to show that, too.”

Apparently this meant giving Atobe one more kiss before Sanada moved lower along his body, one hand running along Atobe’s chest as he leaned down to kiss at whatever spot of bare skin he could reach. Atobe’s breath hitched a little as Sanada’s hand paused at the waistband of his underwear.

There was a flicker of emotion through their connection, a wordless question as Sanada never took his mouth off Atobe’s skin. Somehow Atobe managed to gasp out a response, yes of course please. Apparently this was enough, as Sanada’s hand slipped under the waistband to explore further.

Sanada might have been inexperienced, but he was certainly both a quick learner and an eager student. He kept nipping and kissing at Atobe’s shoulders and along his collarbone, his fingers exploring unfamiliar territory while his hips kept rolling against Atobe’s thigh. He was doing a brilliant job of reading Atobe’s reactions, too. Atobe wasn’t sure if he was following sounds or movements or just whatever spilled over through their connection, but one way or another he was doing a beautiful job of adjusting the pressure and movement of his hand just so. There was a look of intense concentration on Sanada’s face, the sort of determination he usually only saved for his most demanding matches, and somehow that affected Atobe almost as much as the calloused hand lavishing attention on his clit.

God, he wouldn’t be able to watch any of Sanada’s matches at this rate. Not if he was going to be making that face.

Atobe was getting better at processing multiple sources of visual input, could control his focus most of the time without any trouble. Right now, however, he found himself overwhelmed by images from every direction, all drawn in painful detail that threatened to overtake him. There was the dark mess of Sanada’s hair, the hint of sweat glistening on smooth skin, the precise pattern of the expensive sheets scrunched up beneath them and, oh, it was all getting to be too much. All of that was wrapped up in a haze of pleasure, the images burned into his mind mixed with desire and satisfaction and feelings he wasn’t quite ready to name, and Atobe was only vaguely aware that he cried out as he closed his eyes and the world exploded into white light.

He blinked up at the ceiling afterwards, feeling somewhat dazed as his body was still shuddering with the aftershocks of his release. “Um.” He licked his lips, unable to stop staring at the white patterns reaching above the bed. “I think I got frost on the ceiling.”

“Typical.” Sanada’s lips were still ghosting against Atobe’s shoulder. “Always making a big production of everything.” His grunt might have been easier to believe if Atobe hadn’t detected a definite air of smugness drifting out from him.

“Of course. That’s one of my most charming qualities.” He ran a hand over Sanada’s shoulder, down his arm. “Now get up here so I can return the favor.”

Sanada made a non-committal sound. As Atobe nudged him, there was a grunt. “You don’t need to.”

“I want to.” Atobe pursed his lips. Was this really the time to get stubborn?

“No, I mean… you don’t need to.” Was that embarrassment coloring Sanada’s voice now? “Ah. You… know how strong sensations are the most likely to leak over?”

Atobe nodded, processing this for a moment. Of course he knew that, knew how Sanada had basically seen through his brain during his biggest breakdown. He also remembered it the other way around, of the desire Sanada had shown him just a little while earlier, and — Atobe paused. Come to think of it, the firm pressure against his thigh was, ah, somewhat less firm now. “Really?”

This time all he got was a wordless nod as Sanada buried his face against the crook of Atobe’s neck.

“Oh my god.” Atobe’s chuckle was slightly breathless, but he managed to gather himself long enough to press a kiss to Sanada’s hair. “You’re adorable when you’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing,” Sanada grunted. His face was still hidden against Atobe’s shoulder.

“Oh, please. Which one of us has superhuman eyesight, again?”

And really, if Sanada wanted to show his annoyance, he should stop huffing with his lips practically pressed against Atobe’s skin. “I’m going to cut it off if you’re going to misuse it.”

“You wouldn’t.” Atobe was grinning like a fool, and he wasn’t even sure he could blame it all on post-orgasmic haze. “Not without my permission.”

“…No, I wouldn’t.” Sanada finally lifted his head, and oh, the blush was even more adorable seen through his actual eyes. “I’m a man of my word, Atobe. I would never take more than you’re willing to give.” Now, why did he get the feeling that statement wasn’t only about Atobe’s powers?

“I know.” He softened his grin into an equally foolish smile, sliding his hand up to tangle in Sanada’s hair. “Come up here so I can kiss you, then, you ridiculous man.”

Apparently that was an acceptable request, as Sanada crawled forward, the reassuring weight of his body settling almost too easily over Atobe’s. The kiss this time was long and lazy, the sharpest edge of urgency dulled as they floated in mutual contentment.

After a moment Atobe drew back a little, just enough to nip at Sanada’s lip. “You know,” he murmured, each syllable practically a kiss in itself as their mouths were barely apart, “I think you owe me a rematch.” Perhaps he was being spoiled and greedy and all those things people often accused him of being, but really, who could blame him when faced with such perfection?

Judging by the growl that left Sanada’s throat as he surged into another, deeper kiss, there was plenty more to be had.


	8. Aftermath

Something was ringing.

It was not, Sanada realized somewhat blearily, his alarm, as he might have expected to hear as his first thing out of sleep. Still, the sound was familiar somehow, one that tugged at his brain, however faint it was…

Wait. That was his ringtone.

Sanada reached to the side, eyes still closed as he expected to find his phone on the nightstand as usual. To his surprise, his hand met neither his phone or even the familiar surface of the nightstand, but instead a bare shoulder that did not belong to him.

Instantly awake, his eyes snapped open as he leaned up on his elbow. There was a pale form stretched out next to him in the bed. The bed that was, he now realized, not his. He was pretty sure he would have remembered having such a large and luxurious bed, to say nothing of his apparent companion.

“Atobe?” Who else could it be? Even with his still half-asleep brain there was no mistaking that familiar silvery hair and pale skin. He even had a vague memory of the dark mole decorating the shoulder. As he remembered, the night before he had…

Sanada flushed. Okay, he definitely remembered that.

“Mmm… answer your damn phone,” Atobe murmured, turning his head toward Sanada. His eyes were closed, though Sanada still caught a glimpse of himself through Atobe’s sight. A show-off even right after waking up, then. Of course.

The phone was indeed still ringing, sending him scrambling to find it. Rather than any sort of a sensible place, he ended up finding it on the floor in the pocket of his apparently hastily discarded pants. Finally getting it in his hand, he settled back into the bed, bringing the phone to his ear without even looking at the name on the screen. “Yes?”

“Ah, you did answer after all. I was starting to wonder if you had completely forgotten about us.”

“Seiichi?” Sanada froze. It shouldn’t have been possible to feel so tense while lying in such a soft bed, but of course Seiichi could make the impossible happen.

“Genichirou. I’m assuming you are not coming to morning practice?”

Sanada blinked, drawing the phone far enough from his ear to look at the time. He muttered a curse under his breath, then went back to the call. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot —”

“That’s not a wonder, really, considering we have no practice today.” Right. He was going to murder Seiichi, best friends or not. He was too young for heart attacks. “To be honest, I just wanted to check in on you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sanada sighed, sinking into the frankly sinful selection of pillows arranged against the headboard. Immediately his chest was claimed by an apparently very cuddle-starved Atobe, an arm hooked around him without as much as a by-your-leave.

“Well, Renji told me you didn’t do your usual run last night. Of course I would get concerned about such a clear break of your established routine.”

Right. Of course Renji would be keeping track of that. “I was… otherwise occupied.”

“Really, now?” He could practically see Seiichi’s self-satisfied smile in front of him. “Should I be offering my congratulations at last?”

“I — what?” Okay. Clearly he was still dreaming, considering the fact Seiichi was not making any sense.

“Well, I assume that means you and Atobe finally managed to work things out. Was I wrong?”

“I —” What was he supposed to say to that? It wasn’t like he could actually tell Seiichi that he had slept over at Atobe’s place. And he certainly couldn’t say anything about the rest of it.

He still hadn’t come up with a proper answer when a hand suddenly entwined with his, prying the phone from his hand. Sanada was too shocked to do much of anything as Atobe claimed the phone, somehow moving even closer to Sanada if that was even possible.

“Mmm. Yukimura, I presume?” There was a moment’s silence, during which he assumed Seiichi was speaking. “Yes, you would be correct. Worry not, I’m keeping a close eye on him.”

He really should have protested, pointing out he was not some kind of a pet that needed watching. However, Atobe’s warmth and sleep-soft voice were rather distracting, and besides he knew better than to get between those two.

“Yes, of course I will get him back home. It’s not like I’m keeping him prisoner.” Atobe snorted at whatever Yukimura said at the other end. “Never mind that I want to face Rikkai at your strongest, it’s rather in my own best interests that he makes it to the tournament on time, too.”

There were some more comments, though Sanada did not pay much attention. He instead occupied himself with running his hand through Atobe’s hair. It was a mess, and made Atobe look rather… human. He doubted he’d be allowed to do this at any other time, anyway.

“Right. I’ll let him know.” Atobe sounded awfully smug about something. “Oh, you’d better believe it. And I have no intention of losing.” Apparently that was the ending statement, as Atobe ended the call, letting the phone fall to the bed. “See? We can actually be civil.”

“Strangely enough, yes.” Sanada grunted, wrapping his arms around Atobe. “So what did he ask you to tell me?”

“Two things.” Atobe tapped his chest with two fingers, because apparently he didn’t trust Sanada’s math skills. “One, this had better not affect your performance against Hyoutei.”

“Of course not.” Sanada snorted at such a ridiculous suggestion. “If anything, I want to beat you even more than before.” What could he say? He was a competitive man. “And the other thing?”

“Apparently, both Yukimura and Yanagi are glad we finally managed to, ah, ‘come to our senses’ was his phrasing, I believe.” Atobe’s fingertips were dancing along his skin. “Is there something you should be telling me?”

Sanada groaned. “Is that what they’ve been going on about?”

“What do you mean?”

“Seiichi and Renji have been strange about my helping you this whole time. I never understood why they were so amused about it.”

Atobe chuckled, his breath warm against Sanada’s chest. “Well, apparently they were convinced you were interested in me all along.”

“Hn.” Sanada rather wished he’d had a cap to tug over his face. “If I was, I wasn’t aware.”

“Well, I’m glad you figured it out. Because I have definitely been interested for a while.” And really, if Atobe wanted him to pay attention, he should stop drawing those lines on his skin.

“You have?” That was… news to him.

“Of course I have.” Atobe rolled over so he was lying entirely on top of Sanada, their faces nearly touching. “You’re strong, dedicated, and handsome. Who wouldn’t be interested?”

“Ah.” He was definitely flushing, now. “I could say the same about you.”

“Then please do. You know how I like to hear praise.” Atobe smirked, his lips very nearly touching Sanada’s. Clearly that was just teasing. And Sanada had enough of teasing by now.

Pulling Atobe in for a kiss allowed another opportunity to mess up his hair, which just made it all the better.

*

“Someone’s looking awfully smug today.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Sure, Atobe was smirking, but that was hardly unusual for him. It was certainly no grounds for his players to be giving him such looks.

“Sure you don’t.” Shishido snorted. “You look like you already won your match.”

“Perhaps I’m simply feeling very confident.”

“Or just got a good dicking.” Oshitari grinned, no doubt trying to embarrass him. Too bad Atobe was more than ready to deal with such insolence.

Atobe sniffed. “I’ll thank you to keep your nose out of the details of my sex life. Mukahi will soon get jealous.”

“Wait, what?” Gakuto blinked. “Why am I going to be jealous?”

“Because Oshitari seems to be awfully interested in what goes on around my genitals.” Atobe did not need his Insight to spot the oncoming storm, stepping aside with one last smirk at Shishido’s flustered look. Honestly. They should not try to tease him if they weren’t ready for him to play along.

His team more or less gathered together, even if spiced with Oshitari’s attempts to explain himself to an irate Gakuto, Atobe took the opportunity to check out the opposition. Rikkai were warming up not too far from them, close enough that Atobe could simply focus his gaze over there. Not wanting to intrude too much, however, he gently probed Sanada’s mind over their connection. The response was immediate, a quiet welcome as Sanada allowed him through. Clearly they were not discussing anything terribly confidential, if Sanada was letting Atobe hear what was going on.

“Hey, Sanada.” Niou sounded awfully mischievous. His expression certainly matched that as Atobe now did focus his sight over to the Rikkai group. “Did you really go and sleep with the opposing team’s captain the day before the finals?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sanada’s voice was perfectly level, rather at odds with the wry amusement rippling out of him.

“Oh?” Niou sounded awfully smug. “So you’re calling Yukimura a liar?”

“Certainly not. However, you must have misunderstood.” Atobe didn’t even need to focus his sight on Sanada to know his expression did not waver. “I slept with Atobe the day of the Higa matches. We were both quite awake for anything that happened yesterday.”

Really, Sanada would pay for making Atobe laugh for no apparent reason.


End file.
